


Darkness Is Not Black

by LittleSwanLover



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Omega concepts, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Enchanted Forest, Biting, Blood Kink, Blood and Violence, Caning, Cover Art, Curse can be broken, Dark Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Dark Romance, Different Dark Curse, Dominance, Dreams vs. Reality, Dreamscapes, Established SwanQueen in present day Storybrooke, Eventual SwanQueen in cursed FTL, Execution, F/F, Face Slapping, Flashbacks, Knifeplay, Mind Games, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Dynamics, Predator/Prey, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Savior Emma Swan, Situational Humiliation, Slow Burn, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Submission, Teasing, The Enchanted Forest, Whips, battle of wills, breaking of will, past rape mentioned, pet play undertones, swanqueen - Freeform, time and portal jumping, wolf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-05-14 16:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 47,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14773325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSwanLover/pseuds/LittleSwanLover
Summary: Emma loves Regina. All of her or so she thought… but the feet she currently knelt at did not belong to the woman she fell in love with. When she'd proposed to Regina she did not get the answer she expected and it leads her to cast a spell and travel back to the Enchanted Forest to learn why… and she fucks it up. People are a spectrum of light and darkness, some beyond redemption or saving. Is the Evil Queen one of them? Emma Swan wonders this when she is told she has 12 hours to get as far as her wings will carry her.





	1. Hunted

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer - SEE TAGS - Dark Evil Queen and Savior Emma Swan. Mature themes. SwanQueen, slow burn - they will get there, I promise. I reveal nothing early on, but the ride will be worth their hard start. Nothing is as it seems and not your typical ending.
> 
> Don't like = don't read.
> 
> Constructive feedback appreciated, but bashing not accepted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - If you like the complexity of these strong women, their dualities of light and dark, then this might be for you. SwanQueen, slow burn - they will get there, I promise. Give it to chapter 4 before you burn it. I reveal nothing early on, but the ride will be worth their hard start.

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Hunted  
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**The Dark Realm- Black Castle Hall - Before the dawn of the hunt…**

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Emma was forced to her knees on iced black marble by a gloved hand clutching the back of her neck. Head jerked back by another gripping the blonde knot her hair had become from the days, or was it weeks she had slept with the vermin, in her own filth of the Evil Queen's dungeon. Someone was saying her name, but the ringing in the shell of ear from hunger and thirst drowned out all other sound.

A gasp escaped her as cold water was thrown over her head, soaking the thin tunic she'd been allowed to wear today. Breasts heaved as her tongue struggled to lick the drops clinging to her upper lip. A voice… No, the voice spoke again drawing her eyes open against the flickering torch light, grazing over the dais several paces ahead where an ebony throne rested and the voice came from.

"Ready to show me how far you can fly swan girl?"

 _'Regina.'_ A thought from another life, a forbidden name here, at least to her. An invisible hand thundered against her cheek, nearly snapping her neck when her response hadn't been immediate and she realized, when that name had leaked from her mouth.

"I thought you had learned some manners by now." Red lips pursed and eyes darkened in wait.

"Majesty?" The title lay thick on her dry tongue. She didn't want another lesson, not so soon. There had been many of those, ones that scraped the inside of her mind raw and weakened her body.

The Queen tapped fingertips against the armrests of the throne, nails scraping the bound leather on top. "We are going to play a game and if after, the lesson is learned, you will be rewarded. If not, well… You have twelve hours to enjoy the rest of your free life, to go as far as your little wings will carry you." She waved a hand sending the doors at the far end of the hall wide open. The beginnings of a winter wind spiraled in whipping sparks in the fire of a great hearth.

Emma shivered as she was forced to her feet, the rope binding her hands cut and with a shove between her shoulders she was pushed toward the openness. Too long in confinement, too much space around her quickened a heart. The game became clear; prey and predator. Frozen in freedom she dared a look over her shoulder.

"My hunt begins at dusk."

She flew.

::::::::::::::::::  
Hunted  
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Emma Swan had been given 12 precious hours to live or so she thought, to get as far as she could from the Black Castle and it's Mistress. Maybe less now as the rose of dawn broke across the tops of the trees in the Enchanted Forest.

 _'Enchanting my ass.'_ A wasted thought of precious energy she couldn't afford.

A distant howl made her move again from the rock pile she had tucked into, catching a breath that wouldn't come. The underbrush tripped at her heavy feet and still she lifted them as fast as she could, winding further into the dense wood. Direction didn't matter, speed did and her lungs burned for another rest hours later. Sweat glistened on her upturned face, thirst painful now. Wind echoed in ear or was it a stream? Sandpaper tongue swiped at cracked lips. How long since she'd had water or food?

 _'What day is it?'_ Another waste and wild tangles of blonde shook.

Pale feet moved toward the sound. About fifty yards away water sang over stone and gravel kissed Emma's knees as she plunged lips into the cool stream. She drank with earnest and for a moment without care. Shrunken stomach sloshed madly when she finally stood.

_'Move Swan. Keep moving.'_

Beast of a sun throbbed overhead, teeth scratching at hot skin as feet followed the river, hesitant to stray far from the source of life. Kneeling in the mud brought relief to aching knees and an idea struck. Scooping great handfuls of wet earth, Emma covered her limbs, face and neck with mud. Makeshift sunscreen and camouflage in a pinch. Taking another long drink, she forced her body onward.

Hours passed forward and back as her mind pondered the future and the past. She paused once more, sitting back against a great pine, bark digging into her back and knocking dried mud from skin. A short rest would be okay, just a small one. Her head fell back against the tree, eyes heavy, and she closed them for only a moment…

The cool air woke her first before the hoot of an owl. Eyes dilated in fear as branches rustled overhead from the wind whistling through trees. She had until sundown before they would come. Twelve hours to get as far as she could. Stars pierced the velvet night and the howl of a predator came again.

_'Move! Damn you!'_

Emma bolted upright, tunic flapping at her bruised ribs. Harder to see in the blackness surrounding her vision. Harder still to breathe. She relied on ears instead to trail the river's sharp edge. Feet slipping on stone, she fell, cheek hitting the earth and she heard it then; hoofs slapping in the distance. An upturned root cut the top of her foot as she stumbled up. Something hot dripped down her ankle. Hounds can smell blood. Using teeth, Emma ripped the hem of the coarse fabric sheltering her body, using the strip to tie off the bleeding cut. Up again; forward momentum to nowhere certain.

A horse's whine, gruff shouts closed in.

Up, up, up. Hands scaled a tree with low hanging branches, climbing towards the mocking smile of a glowing crescent. Lips pushed against the bark, muffling hot breath.

Hoofs roared underneath and the din echoed in the direction she'd been heading in. She waited, sitting bait for whatever followed as a starved brain tried to work. Somehow she found the ground or it found her and she took off toward the river, ice water hitting bare flesh bringing mind to present. Shallow enough to wade, waist deep and with the sliver of light afforded her enough to make it to the other side.

Soaked and torn Emma moved through the night. Dazed with fatigue, but nerves on fire she crouched, tucking under a low rock ridge. Pulling leaves and dirt over her body and a dead branch as a shield she finally stopped moving.

The stillness brought vertigo and she turned her head to retch, dry heaves and bile spat from lips. Sleep came in broken waves, teasing behind eye lids. Mornings hand rudely slapped her cheek and in the light she listened; birds, water, a crack above. Teeth bit rolled lips, nostrils flared, heart a machine gun trapped within bone. Emma closed her eyes, tears washing dirt trails down, down her face.

Another crack and then nothing. Minutes tangled with the blood pounding at temples.

"My, my, what do we have here?"

A gravelly voice that turns cells to ice chips in veins. Green eyes dared to open. Violent dark orbs bit back. Perfect white teeth, no doubt ready to reach for a pale throat sat over a full blood red lip.

"Do be a good girl and come out from there." A command veiled with honey tones.

Shaking, Emma crawled, keeping to her knees, her eyes on the dirt near heeled leather boots. Fingers snapped and a rough rope, noose like was tied around her throat, jerking her head back. Her hands were taken, palms in prayer and tied together behind her neck. Knees were next and ankles.

Bound and helpless. Helpless and bound.

Boots moved to a great black steed, large hoofs pawed the earth in impatience as the handler mounted. Emma became sick again as she was lifted bodily and draped stomach first over the horse. Pained ribs pulled tight and balanced between the thighs of the rider. An easy canter was taken up and even the half day ride back toward the black castle broke something inside her. Hunted and caught by the same claws that set her free the day before.

An evil game she'd never win; not when the Queen of it was taking her to task.

The black veil shading her eyes was a small mercy for what was to come.

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Do you want more?


	2. Caught

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**Caught**  
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Emma came to as a hand slapped her ass. The horse she was belly over swayed to a stop. Rough stone met her eyes. She couldn't move if she tried. Breathing hurt. The rider dismounted leaving her unbalanced and she feared falling face first into the ground. A gloved hand caressed her cheek. She had just enough fire left to try and nip that hand with her teeth.

"Tsk, tsk. Still feisty?" The Queen fisted dirty blonde locks, pulling a head painfully up. "I can see the lesson I set for you was not learned." She didn't bother sitting down over a fortnight ago to explain the rules or expectations. The girl had to learn as she went or not, as it seemed.

For all the hate boiling inside Emma at the woman, no monster, cupping her cheek that gentle touch was the first she'd had been granted. The chisel working against her brain chipped away another piece of her dignity. To want kindness no matter how small from the hand that wielded the whip, and that was on a good day, made her sick with herself.

"You disappoint me." Dropping it harshly when green eyes narrowed back. She turned to her valet giving instructions and strode off.

Another notch, words heard too often in another life and somehow these mattered more. She didn't understand why and that scared the shit out of her. The Savior's body was burning, what she could feel of it, numbness and tingles intertwined with ache. She was lifted over strong shoulders and hauled into the hall like a bag of grain. Her brain full of dizziness from too much blood swimming between her ears as staircase after staircase was climbed by boots that had no face. When she was finally set down, on spider marble slabs, the room spun. The rope binding her limbs fell away and she whimpered as feeling returned to fingers and toes.

She was laid on her side and curled into herself, unable to move from weakness and pain. The sound of water hitting metal and the smell of bruised herbs began to fill the room. Steam stuck to the inside of her nostrils as warmth began to settle. She was left in the dim space for a few precious moments of stillness.

Then Emma heard it.

The clicking of heels came to rest within inches of her nose. These boots had a name, a title, and were unforgiving. A sharp sound of a blade being pulled from a sheath came before cold metal cut the underside of her chin. On purpose or not, Emma was unsure. Her tunic, what was left of it, starting at the collar was cut away by the same knife in easy strips. She was being skinned or so she thought as the tip scratched down the length of each long limb in lazy drags. Beads of sweat or blood swelled up from dirt encrusted skin.

 _'So this is how I die.'_ A wishful thought as red lips hovered inches over her own.

She'd been caught, but that was the point. Now she understood the lesson. The game rigged from the start was meant to show her that would always be the case, to flake away at her spirit.

And now she lay naked at the feet of the Evil Queen. A darker version of Regina she'd never met, never dared to think existed.

A magic tingle cracked through the static air above her and she shook as warm rain soaked her body, a mini storm conjured to force the caked mud from her body. Emma coughed, opening her mouth to catch a drink and the clean taste reminded her of the river. Memories of the last day slammed into her mind, water waking up more than her body to the terror she'd lived through. A heel caught her hip pushing her over onto her stomach as the magic rain struck her back. A few minutes later the cloudy water under her cheek drained away into nothing.

"Get up." The disappointed voice commanded.

Emma tried to draw her feet under her, but couldn't get her limbs to move. Instead her knees and hands did the work, crawling to where the Queen now stood by a great metal tub in the middle of the steamy room.

"Wash." A brow arched as green pools dared a look beyond her feet.

"Please… I will. Just help me into the water." She would obey, for now, if it meant being clean and maybe some time to think of a way out.

Gloves grabbed her forearms, hauling her up and Emma's knees buckled under her weight. She was dropped, butt hitting the bottom almost hard enough to crack her tail bone. Water sloshed up to the lip of the tub, dripping over the edge.

"I want you spotless."

A sponge was tossed into the swirling liquid at her knees as heels clicked away. Emma was left to her own devices and she sat un-moving for minutes on end as the water cooled around her. Slowly she began to work the rough sponge over her body, starting with her face and ending between her toes. The heat made her muscles work again and she dunked her head back, using what she thought to be shampoo in a clear bottle three times until her scalp squeaked.

Using the stool by the side of the tub to balance, she stepped out and wrapped up in a rough length of cloth left for her use on the floor. Squeezing the liquid from her tresses with the dry end of the cloth, she heard heels again before the door keeping them apart opened. Eyes lowered, hands dropped the cloth, and her knees found the floor as she'd been taught weeks ago; bruised ribs still a reminder of that lesson.

"Better. Now come."

Emma crawled, less than human, into the Queen's private chambers. Fingers snapping caught her eye where she was pointed to kneel on a rug. The woven threads felt like heaven. A plate of a thick stew and broken bits of flaky bread was placed in front of her on the floor. She blinked. Was it real? Lips broke into a whimper as her arms snapped tightly together behind her back and were again bound by a magic rope that followed her everywhere within the confines of the castle. It snaked upwards, forcing her chest out. She shook as the Queen circled her twice before disappearing from view.

She didn't expect a gentle hand or even two threading through her damp hair. A comb followed through the ends of blonde hair and took many minutes to free the knots that had found a home there. Another moment of kindness left her with a pale braid that was wound around her head and pinned.

"A golden crown for the white princess." Dark eyes took in the skinny blonde kneeling by her hearth; daughter of the traitor Snow and the sniveling prince called Charming. She'd been remiss to allow such beautiful flesh to waste away. Another lesson that had to be learned when the food bowl had been thrown at her feet the first day. "Now eat."

Regina sat on the red chaise near the fire and began to enjoy her own meal from the table laden with cheeses, meats and fruit. Wine passed her lips as she waited to see if the blonde would need a nudge to obey.

Green pools narrowed to pin points on the floor and cheeks flushed with humiliation as Emma realized she was being watched, but a stubborn chin dipped down anyway. A pink tongue lapped at the broth and teeth nibbled cubes of meat. Not a trace was left behind. She sat up and dared flick eyes to the Queen, only high enough to see the sharp corners of a red mouth turn up.

"You can be taught." Regina observed and delicately dabbed her lips with a silk napkin.

She leaned forward to catch a pale chin in a vice grip, her nails pinching cheeks. Emma flinched and she smiled wickedly, loosening her hold and wiping the girl's mouth with the same napkin. She took a moment to run her thumb along the abused lower lip, wanting to taste, but knowing she had to time that well. Tossing the silk away she silently pointed to a spot closer on the carpet and the blonde shuffled forward, less than graceful.

"Tell me how you came by your name, swan girl." Distaste for it evident on royal lips. White princess or not, she hadn't expected this attachment to the girl's name and wondered at it origins.

Emma knew this version of Regina could tell when she was lying in a way she'd been unable to figure out yet. She had learned that the first day when she'd tried to spin a different tale than how she arrived in a ball of light in the Black Castle hall. All fire and red leather; brawn and spit when she'd learned where she was and when. Even so, this was a much more twisted fairy tale past than the storybook told. There was a darker Queen that ruled between that leather cover than was spelled out on parchment for the ears of children to fall asleep to.

"There's a book in my world about an ugly duckling that turns into a swan after…" She swallowed and took a breath, missing home. A slap, this time from a real hand, rang her ears like a bell. Punished for a pause. "A-after he finds his real family. I took Swan as my last name to remind me that one day I would find my family, Majesty." Remembering to end with the expected title.

"And you did find your precious family, did you not? In this world and in your own?" The question did not need asking as she already knew the answer.

"R-Majesty, please." Her slip was noted by the tap of a boot and she ducked her head, remembering the other damning one in the bath.

"That is only three in one day my dear. Well done, you are making progress." Regina stood and moved across the room toward a large cabinet. "We will get to that in a minute. Answer my question."

"I did find them Majesty."

"How dear Mom and Dad are to you. Do you think they are better enjoying their new accommodations?"

Emma's eyes glassed. For as miserable as she was, they had been worse off. "I'll do whatever you want, but…" A sob tore her throat at the vision of Snow's eyes watching her be dragged away and David's growl of outrage that followed. The cage that held the Charmings in the bowels of this castle released the couple with one promise from pink lips. They now resided in the Summer Castle thousands of miles away, walled in by magic, but safe to live their lives.

"That's four. Keep going."

Emma heard the cabinet open and close as those heels returned. "Yes, I think they are Majesty." Last word spat. The brief rest on the horse and now clean with a meal in her gut gave her back some strength.

"Since you have found your family, you have no need of that name anymore. You have another though I am willing to allow you to retain, but one you must earn my lips. Until then, you will simply be girl."

"Like a pet?" Scoffing then remembering in time. "Majesty."

"That is a title you do not deserve. That aside, I already have a pet and no need for another." Regina slowed her pace. "Since you failed to lose your indignation and defiance from the task I set earlier, there is penance to be paid and with it a new name you will come to own."

"No."

The protest escaped before she realized it was on the cusp of breaking air. Still, damning as it would prove to be, she couldn't let her name go, the last piece of who she is and the dignity she had left.

A tapping of something against the rings on the Queen's dominant hand caused goose flesh. Emma wondered how many tears she would be forced to cry before the pain stopped this time.

"Five for the lack of my title and now ten in total for your defiance. Such a brave girl you are. Stupid, but brave." Circling the blonde, she began rapping the rattan cane against her palm, a long willowy number and an old favorite that never failed to teach stubborn pride to heel. She flicked a finger, magically undoing the bindings cutting into pale arms.

Emma winced as rope uncoiled and she rolled her shoulders.

"Drape the blanket there over the chaise and bend over the back." She waited as the blonde did as bid, annoyed when movements were shaky and undefined. Grace would be taught another day.

Breasts pressed into the blanket, body bent in a sideways L, with her bottom up high and long legs were left to toe the floor. A hand between her shoulder blades pushed her forward, face pinned to the cushion and toes left groundless. The same spelled rope now wrapped around each slim wrist, pulling her arms straight out over her head and securing to the foot posts on the furniture. Naked and sprawled, a stretched canvas ready to paint and the Evil Queen wielded the brush.

Emma thought she could handle a beating, especially in the early days of her confinement in the dungeon. She'd gotten plenty of them in less than sketchy homes as a kid in foster care. She was no stranger to leather, but rattan was something else entirely. It was a living thing firm and whippy, stingy and thuddy depending on how the Queen wielded it and this one had been soaked in water, tip heavy.

The first stroke took all of her breath out in a hiss through clenched teeth. Shoulders shook as the heat wave rippled through cold flesh as the cut took a full minute to peak. A white stripe bloomed, turning crimson as blood flooded underneath the welt. Another strike cracked against the flesh of her bottom precisely a millimeter below the last line. Time became lost amid the space of hits, each drawn out to be fully felt. Emma didn't remember when she started crying between her yelps of pain. Ten came and the blonde wilted. The faintest of touches, a feathering of fingertips strummed the stripes like a guitar.

"What is your name?"

A catch in throat, but pride held out. "E-emma Swan! Majesty."

"Stubborn."

Cane sliced the air and bit again and again. Emma wished whoever was screaming would stop and she did after the second set.

Regina went around to the chaise and took up a chin as tears soaked the cuff of her silk riding jacket. "What is your name?"

"Em-ma. P-please… it's Emma M-majesty." Maybe she could hold onto this one, maybe…

Another set commenced and the Savior realized what this was. This was not a beating; it was a breaking and she was the cracking glass. Wave after wave of heat rippled through her core and she hated how in the furthest, darkest part of her mind an inner calm began to fuzz the sharp ends of pain. She didn't realize at first that the cane had stopped or that she gave in so completely under the Queen's hand until a voice, her own answered the posed question.

"Gi-rl M-majesty.” With one bent syllable and a title, her pride shattered for the moment.

The rope released and she laid un-moving save for the sobs wringing her out. She was moved to a pile of furs in front of the dying hearth and felt her ankles bound to a metal link in the stone floor. A cup pressed against dry lips and water dribbled down her chin between sips. She was left with two damning words that lay claim to the black corner of her mind as another master called sleep took her.

"Good _girl_."

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Hope you are intrigued enough to comment or kudo. Thanks for reading!


	3. Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***A/N - Intro from previous chapter updated… here it is if you missed it –makes a big difference to plot. Emma loves Regina. All of her or so she thought… but the feet she currently knelt at did not belong to the woman she fell in love with…See TAGS for disclaimer update if you haven't read it before yesterday.***
> 
> *Hook and Robin never happened in Storybrooke.

**::::::::::::::**

**Promise**

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Blonde lashes fluttered against fur, not the silk sheets in a shared bed on Mifflin Street, of home. There would be no soft tan arms comforting her this morning, no husky whispers to soothe her fraying thoughts, or eyes that offered love. As the light of reality hit her irises Emma wanted to cry, but there were no tears left, not after last night. Her skin chaffed under the heavy blanket covering her nakedness. Something slid across her foot and she reflexively jerked her leg up, skin on her buttocks cracking from the movement. Wincing, she peered over the fabric to see the rope binding her ankles lengthen to give her several feet of slack.

"Rise."

Emma eased up on her forearms at that voice, belly against the furs keeping the cold stone from seeping into her aching muscles. Not a question so she needn't respond, but act. She could do that, would do that if her skin would stop seeping. She felt a sticky wetness coating her bottom and thighs, causing the blanket to cling where it shouldn't.

"I think I'm bleeding… Majesty."

Heeled boots gave pause and closed in from across the room. Cold air slapped her breasts as the blanket was tossed away causing pink nipples to pucker in attention.

Regina scoffed at the site, bending down to run a nail across a welted cheek making the owner gasp. "Not blood, simply some clear fluid from the caning. That can happen when flesh is worn to the point of abrasion. The tissue is trying to mend." Explained as simple fact, without emotion.

So no broken skin, that made Emma feel somewhat better, still her head went automatically to infection and she wished she had something to ensure that wouldn't be the case. As if her thoughts were heard and cringing that this might be a possibility, heels moved back to the cabinet where the cane had come from and returned. She couldn't help shivering at the approach, nor at the hand that now swiped a thick herbal salve across each welt.

Regina noted the tension each time her finger left and came in contact with the girl's skin, and it was not due to the tenderness of flesh. Today and the next few, she decided, she would bring balance to instilling a sense of healthy respect and some predilection in the girl. As long as the blonde remained obedient, she could leash her desire to push forward with the girl's training for a while.

"Stay there and let this soak in." A taste of gentility that could be there.

Emma obeyed, confused at the gesture. Why would Regina cause her pain only to offer something to heal it after? That rubbed her the wrong way, but that thought fled as the hair on the back of her neck stood up to meet the gravelly voice.

"Oh and for future reference, when I choose to make you bleed you will know it. Precision is something you can expect from me in all things and that was not my intent last night."

A sleep ridden brain struggled to keep up with the polarity of temperatures from the Queen. The change between was faster than a light switch. Minutes passed as the salve did its work, speeding the healing faster than should be possible. Emma looked over her shoulder and saw pink stripes where there should be red ones. Drawing her knees under her, she knelt up, careful to settle her buttocks between her calves. Another plate, this one with a thick oatmeal and cut fruit was set on the floor by a regal hand. The same hand that broke a piece of her off last night was the one that gave her the dish and now rested heavy atop her head. Anxiety rose in her throat and she pulled away in a careful swoop forward to begin her meal. Hair was caught sharply and her face drawn back to look up. With the sharp angle she struggled to keep her eyes on her own nose.

"What is your name?"

Tears formed and not from the painful tingling of nails digging into her scalp. She wanted to eat. She wanted to go home. She wanted her own name and above all, she wanted the woman she loved back. This woman was not her, and yet…

A softer hand, a different hand than the one causing her neck cords to strain stroked her cheek, lips, and throat. The slap that normally came when she paused too long didn't. Instead a kiss, one chaste offering to her temple, sent her mind rolling to the dark corner of desire. She didn't want this, didn't want the cruel affection at the price of losing her sense of self and yet something in her forced the gritty words out.

"Girl. Majesty."

"Eat."

And she did, and was thoroughly ignored the remainder of morning as the Queen settled at the great mahogany desk on the far side of the room. Allowed a short leash to move about her fur and to the bathing room for relief Emma could only sit. Mid-day brought another meal with the repeated ritual and question. Dinner was the same.

Between meals Emma also observed the Queen, trying to get a sense of her beyond the mind games and tepid words. Emma learned a few things. Regina could be still longer than anyone she had ever seen, statuesque in posture and grace behind the desk for hours on end, only movement eyes across parchment. This version seemed to prefer the quiet of solitude over interaction. Of course that was when brown eyes were not scolding the noise of breathing coming from Emma across the room or with each deemed 'unnecessary fidget.' She wasn't sure yet why these things were important to understand, but in the long hours of the day they stood out as the most defining.

Six cycles of the sun rose and fell in this pattern between them.

By the afternoon of the seventh Emma lost what obedience she'd been willing to give and every mark the Queen had thus far left on her. Ribs, feet and skin healed with no scaring and she'd gained back some much needed weight. With nothing to do but eat, rest, and think, her mind was splitting trying to figure out what lesson this was, if any. She'd said the name, every time and with each she'd gotten brief pain mixed with affection. The repetitive sequence was maddening and stronger was the ember in Emma the Queen had tried to smother. It was simmering behind her eyes.

Mid-day meal was laid at her knees and two hands went to their place, one stroking, one gripping and Emma closed her eyes when that kiss came, closer this time than last, a slow trail to the corner of her pink mouth over the course of the week. And in that moment she couldn't help herself. Her mind said her name given at birth but her lips gave the Queen another. When the command to eat was given and her head released and Emma finally snapped, ready to fight.

"No! Not until you tell me what the hell this is!" The clicking stopped a few paces away and amused eyes were turned her way and damn her body for shrinking under them and warming to the direct attention.

"This is exactly what it looks like. You needed rest and food, some simple comforts." She had no intentions of killing the girl, playing with her was much more fun, especially when the royal blood flowing beneath that porcelain skin belonged to her arch nemesis. The Queen ignored the lack of her title for now, deciding to remedy that later, and in such a way that ensured future compliance. "You need to understand your purpose and trust me; your life will be easier when you accept it. Perhaps content even."

Emma went ridged, expecting a correction by now and decided to continue pushing if it meant she might get some answers. "I asked you what you wanted from me and every time I do you twist words like a damn politician. So cut the shit and just tell me what the fuck you want from me!"

"The fun is in the guessing, keeps the blood hot and you on edge. Does it not it?"

Green eyes met brown. "More like in terror. You have no idea how terrified I was last week during that chase you set up! How could you do that to another human being?"

At the insinuation Regina saw red. "How. **Dare**. You."

Emma's airway constricted and hands went to claw the invisible ones at her throat.

"I know precisely the feelings and the effect my decisions have on you, girl." The leash holding back her temper snapped. "What it feels like to be hunted, feels like to be teased with the promise of freedom only to be dragged back to your worst nightmare over and over again. I came for you, not the hell hounds, not the guards. Me. You know nothing about what true terror is."

Pin points of white flecked across Emma's vision. Those words had a sobering effect as she gasped because in a way she didn't know the extent of what that meant. Not for this version of her fiancé and to because _her_ Regina never discussed the details of the forced marriage to the King. Everything else about the childhood before and after the Kings death was open for discussion, but not those years. Emma could only guess at what Leopold had done to Regina, but really she had no idea, though the rage that glittered in the eyes before her gave some clue.

And that's exactly why she was here, to understand just that. Not _herey_ at the Evil Queen's feet, but close. The spell she cast should have taken her to taken her to the day of the King's proposal to Regina in the Enchanted Forest and move her through those years as an observant shadow, like watching a movie, but on fast forward. Instead she landed in the Dark Realm, as the Queen had said that first day with nothing else offered as explanation for the feigned niceties Emma had been granted before being let go to find her parents. That plan to get help did not turn out well for any of them. With the dark realm versions of Snow and Charming banished with a promise she made, she was on her own to sort out the mess she'd gotten into. Maybe she hadn't fucked up the spell as much as she thought, though her magic sure had a twisted sense of humor.

As these thoughts spun as Emma was released and doubled over, red and coughing. She had forgotten for just one ballsy moment that the woman looking at her with that familiar calculating expression was not the Regina she knew. The pain in the ass Mayor, Henry's mother, and her best friend and lover. This was not the version in the room, but damn it, those eyes were…

The depth, blaze, and fierce determination that drove her Regina to change, to love again, had to linger somewhere in those violent pools; hidden away from the light. Maybe she could help this version find the beacon, maybe… Regina, any version of her, would come to respect a worthy opponent and it struck her then what she had to do; prove her worth as more than a doormat, a punching bag, or thing. She had to show that no matter what was done to her that she believed the Queen was redeemable maybe even lovable, because wasn't everyone? But how much could Emma forgive in the time it took to follow that pursuit through? And still, who better to do it than she?

_'But how?'_

"Cat got your tongue girl?"

Emma's eyes refocused on the black boots. She had also forgotten how well she knew Regina, the layers of her, what made that brilliant mind tick and in her panic, starved state she had separated the version she knew with this one, but weren't they one in the same? The Savior she was kicked in and like she did with the Mayor in those early years when scheme, game, and punch after fucking punch kept coming, she dug her heels in and hit back.

"Emma." Her spine straightened. "That word you said is not _my_ name."

"Yet you speak it beautifully, practically purring whenever I ask." Regina slowly circled the blonde deciding to give a little clarity to what the girl's purpose was. "I am feeling generous despite your continued misbehavior; as such I will allow you some insight to the questions I know are spinning in that little head of yours." In a grand sweep she perched in the winged chair opposite the chaise, the side of her face just within the blonde's vision and before that pointed chin could turn, commanded. "Stay."

Emma kept her head still, but her eyes found the sharp edge of a regal profile, longing for the softness she knew could be there.

"I say this as a kindness so my intent is clear and you thoroughly understand why you are here. No matter how much you fight me or yourself, I will win every time. No matter how strong you think you are or untouchable, I will touch all of you because I mean to own you entirely; body, mind and that fiery spirit."

"No one owns me."

"I did not say I did yet. Precision dear, applies to language as well. By now you have come to understand that I mean what I say and so, I will make a promise to you, one you would do well to take to heart."

Emma paled, but squared her jaw as the Queen leaned forward and to the right, now eye level. Last night had been about cracking her resolve and the dark woman before her had done that as she said she would. The blonde had no doubt the coming promise would hold true and her internal lie detector validated that, blaringly so. Her chin was lifted then by a long nail and still she pushed.

"What's that Queenie?"

Brows rose briefly at the display of brass, a flicker of pleasure flashed across her eyes at the challenge and shaded with annoyance, but Regina leashed the desire to correct instantly. No this girl needed a different hand. "Patience dear. With the right measures implemented over time, you will bend to my will. Until then we will work at quelling these other unsatisfying qualities you seem to feel the need to hold on to."

"That's some promise." Green eyes rolled and her cheeks were caught fast, mouth forced into a painful fish pucker.

"You are mistaken girl. That is not my promise to you. This is; I will break you and when I do I will own all of you. However, when you break I will put you back together." She let go, fingertips now gently brushing the red marks she left and thought, _'because I never was.'_

Emma pulled away, confusion hammering her temples again. "Why?"

A red smile turned down, softening between a blink of green eyes, disclosing no more. She'd lost herself briefly in her outrage of the girl's implication earlier and she couldn't afford to do that again. "Just be grateful of that fact. Now, enough talk. It is time to address your lack of respect."

"Another caning?" Questions meant delay, and gave her some feeling of control.

"For eight infractions in a span of minutes, ten if I chose to count your direct eye contact without permission, I think not." Regina stood, twirling a long black curl. She'd decided the punishment long before that number. "As much as your cries and screams were music to my ears, your skin will heal too soon for my words here with you to take effect, that is not the kind of heeling you will be doing today. No, something much more entertaining is in order."

"You make it sound like a show."

"Of a sort, but not for me. Another will handle your fate. I grow weary of your impudence."

Blood turned cold. Was she being given away then, like so many other times in another life? But the promise…

_I will break you…I will put you back together… I…_

Emma's meal was left untouched as she was bid to her feet. The rope left her ankles and moved to encircle her wrists and throat in a makeshift leash. She was pulled along behind the Queen, bare feet slapping stone and then dirt when they moved outside into the day. The sun was bright over head, but the wind nipped her nakedness.

The horse from yesterday was brought out and with innate grace the Queen pulled up and sat astride the black mare; tight leather pants snug around strong thighs, purple corset lifting perfect breasts and over both a burgundy velvet jacket with trailing cape that fanned out over the flanks of the horse. Black fur lined the collar of the coat and wide brimmed hat, which was cocked over a raised brow and completed the ensemble. Regina was as intense as she was magnificent; a terrible beauty.

For a moment Emma saw a hint of the woman from another life and she forgot to breathe. She was reminded to as firm tug came from the rope, end now looped around the saddle horn. Feet were forced into a march towards the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest...

:::::::::::

A/N - Thoughts? *wicked grin*

Next time - Regina's inner dialogue and how the Dark Realm came to be... And angst/suspense galore.


	4. Toy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N – This a plot chapter with action towards the end. Also, the one I asked you wait to get to before you burn this story. Sets the whole base for their journey to unfold and answers a ton of questions you probably have. Short summary provided of Regina’s thoughts at end for reference later.** Fan art for this chapter is on my Tumbler under LittleSwanLover and in here at the end.

**:::::::::::**

**Toy**

**:::::::::::**

Regina’s hips rolled easily on the one she mounted, muscles responding to the pace of the fair creature between her thighs. Her lips parted to taste the air; fury, fear, and something else. She smiled. A gloved hand stroked a long neck and her horse whinnied at the affection, one she’d had for nearly a year, but still not Rocinante. A sacrifice of love, wasted for a curse that went astray.

One the girl insisted had been cast correctly resulting in a place called Storybrooke. A curious knowledge gained weeks ago from the blonde walking behind her.

That had been such an enlightening conversation as the girl pleaded prettily at knife point for understanding as to why the sudden appearance in the Black Castle was not her fault, but a spell gone wrong. Regina was all too familiar with the effects of magic gone awry. She had learned there was supposedly another version of herself outside the boundaries of this cursed Dark Realm where light never quite reached the edges of the black mist of space surrounding it. Apparently the Enchanted Forest still existed, or so the blonde said.

But Regina knew the truth.

All of the realms had been destroyed the night the curse warped, Rumple had ensured that just as she had ensured his death because of the fact. Everything and everyone in the magical realms had been sucked into the time loop the Dark Realm existed in. Pieces of each had formed the very ground the blonde walked on. The bridge allowing for portals to work severed allowing no one to cross either side.

Yet this girl had found a way, a one way trip through a loop hole.

Regina had been taught by the Dark One himself and read about the edges of realms, destroyed or real or imaginings, sometimes crossing and blurring at the edges called dream scapes, an extremely rare thing. That explained the blonde’s blind belief in the reality she’d come from; a fragment and memory of a world that could have existed on the continuum of time had the curse gone the way it should have and that fake reality had brushed against this one. Time was not a continuum here, it spiraled in on itself; a spinning ball of chaotic confusion floating through the universe.

The girl had such hope in returning home and Regina let her have that hope, because the curse would take everything else soon enough. And Regina couldn’t stop it from doing so, even if she wanted to and part of her did.

 

The light in those green eyes did.

 

That blind faith remained in green pools even at the Queen’s discovery of a magic bean the blonde had stashed in the pocket of a foul red leather jacket and she had explained, almost kindly, it had no effect here. A royal hand had tossed the bean aside in proof and no portal formed because there was no-where else to go, no other realm to escape to. The blonde demanded a try and doubt hinted in those eyes when the bean had been so easily handed back and still proved worthless.

_I’ll find a way home._ Pink lips had said.

Lips that made a binding promise; herself for her parents lives. That further sealed her entrapment here and to the Queen who ruled. Once the shadows of the Dark Realm got a taste for the girl’s light heart and even more at that selfless promise she’d lost what magic flowed under pale skin, consumed by darkness starved for light. The only magic here belonged solely to Regina.

Those lips said a lot of things.

Here Regina’s senses and powers were heightened. There was almost nothing she couldn’t do… almost. Blind truths that brushed against what humanity she had left and that scratched an unreachable itch. A part of her wished there was a place called Storybrooke that existed where the girl said she, the Evil Queen, was happy, had a family, friends and even a son named…

Regina swallowed the name forcing it away; another sacrifice of love. Names brought attachments and lonely as she was she would not form one with the girl. How many times would she open her heart only to have those she allowed in ripped from her? Snow had seen to that a few different times.

_‘But now Snow is contained under my thumb and the girl is here, so maybe… No.’_ Regina shook the thought away. There was no hope for her, never for her. Self doubt put her thoughts back on track.

Still she had finally gotten her revenge on the White brat at the blonde’s bold entry into her court now nearly a month ago. The daughter carried under a White heart for nine months and who had been lost in a spelled tree the night the curse twisted itself into something else. This realm was meant to be the playground for the Dark One, a cursed world no one could intrude upon where everyone bent to his will.

And Regina would not kneel, never again.

She had discovered his scheme and as the edges of the Enchanted Forest fell away she pulled the Imp’s heart from his chest and crushed it, ensuring she would rule in his place. Suddenly, as fate or the brushing of a fragmented world would be so kind, the daughter appeared a year later in her castle, fully grown, and spitting stories of a very different place.

Strange, the land the girl babbled about, time must have moved differently in that would be dream world. Insufferable Charming genetics ensured the blonde found her family when Regina had turned her loose from the Black Castle to do so that first morning after feigning sympathy for the confused surly girl. The White Princess cub had led her right to the Snow lion’s den. A warded cave spelled with blood magic by the Blue Fairy, in the nick of time before the curse took effect, to draw the Savior in to find them.

The twisted curse had indeed transported all of fairy tale land to a kingdom Regina ruled, a horrible place of shadows where each occupant lived a version of their own fear, catch was the Queen was included, that twist she’d been unable to stop before the Enchanted Forest had been consumed and the Dark One fell at her feet. She lived each day with the realization she would never love or be loved again, a fear she had thought she had let go of in turning to dark magic when Rumple had offered to teach her. Memories were still intact for everyone, but magic existed only at her fingertips as it would have for the Dark One had he lived and ruled as he’d intended, fingertips attached to an iron fist to match her heart. And the catch of any curse was that it could be broken as the Savior was meant to do.

Still, broken curse or not, this realm was all that was left. The occupants could be released from the spell, but not the world they lived in.

But when the blonde had arrived in the ball of light, Regina had faltered for just a moment with that desire. To be able to possibly return from the darkness, to help shift this land to be more like the Enchanted Forest that no longer existed and in doing so, she could somehow start anew. It was a strong pull, but the expense was too great; she would not give up her revenge or the order and control she still had over her life, not when the perfect lure had just fallen into her hands.

Here her will was law and that fed her, kept the hunger for love at bay when nothing else could. Snow’s only saving grace against the Queen’s will upon arrival to this realm a year ago was fairy magic that shielded the Charmings’ in the transport. Blue had managed that and the tree that had saved the girl. The magic, the last of the fairy’s reserves provided the White brat and her husband with a place of safety to live in wait for their long lost daughter to find them.

Extracting the reunited family from the cave had been as simple as buttering bread. The girl trusted blindly, at least she had in that first meeting at the castle and again at the mouth of the cave when Regina had come knocking. A prize catch, none the less. And, for all the blonde shared and told, the Queen revealed nothing of the twisted curse, save the name of the place she ruled.

Doing so would destroy the girl and snuff out the light in those eyes, of that she was certain. Though the girl would no doubt break under that truth from red lips when Regina chose to reveal it, she did not wish to keep the Savior broken and she surprised herself with that desire. If she was never to love again, she might be able to have something, some kind of companionship with the blonde. So she had promised to mend the break that would inevitably happen, she was determined to in some way, but the way was not clear yet.

She fell back on old habits, to secure something for herself by taking what she wanted the only way she knew how; through control, games, and pain. There was no other model for it left in her life and that reminder turned her mouth down and she clicked her tongue twice as the memory of early encounters with the girl faded away, horse hoofs gaining a peppy step.

For the speed of the march through the wood that was set, whenever Emma stumbled, it slowed just enough until she gained her footing. After an hour they came to a small round clearing and the Queen dismounted. Emma panted from the excursion, feet sore and moved to where she was led.

“Sit.” A finger snapped to the spot at the base of a skinny pine.

_‘Again with the pet commands… I wonder what she would do if I barked?’_ Emma thought as she stared at the tree in wonder.

She and her Regina back in Storybrooke had gotten plenty kinky before in the Mayor’s bedroom, but nothing like this and as the melancholy of missing home took over she obeyed. Doubt began to invade at that being a possibility any more the longer she was here. This place had a way of eating at her resolve and exposing her fears and she couldn’t figure out why. Her biggest fear of not having a place to call home or to belong had begun to invade her dreams and thoughts.

She shook her head, hope still strong. Emma did have a place and it wasn’t here…

_‘Was it?’_ Another doubtful thought.

The magical rope moved freeing her neck and stretched her wrists around the back of the tree. She had finally given it a name to personify the twisted cord always tied to her in some way. Rope secured her middle, then her chest, and coiled around her forehead like a coronet to the bark. The Queen stood over her, shading her body from the sun’s harsh glare. A twig broke under a heel and green eyes flicked up to the breasts that hovered in her face.

“Shaking already? Poor dear. We are just getting started.”

Regina moved to the saddle bag of her horse and returned with a water sack. Taking her time with a long drink, eyes locked on the girl at her feet and she knelt down to put the flask to a wanting mouth, barely brushing the damp rim to flesh before pulling back in a tease.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Yes… Please.”

Fire dimmed now that she was tied, splayed, and thirsty. She watched the Queen take a great pull and those red lips engulfed her own as cool water poured in. Twisting away, Emma ducked her face, blushing at the closeness. A tingle shot down her spine from that kiss, one she’d tasted before in another life now so far away, and from the words that followed.

“Time to begin.” The flask was stored away and another summoned into a gloved hand in its place. Regina enjoyed the way that pale brow wrinkled and the way pupils dilated when she uncapped the flask and poured the contents into her hand.

“Is that…?”

“Blood? Yes dear. Don’t worry, it is not human.”

_‘As if that makes a fucking difference!’_ Emma shouted in her head, the metallic scent filling her nose. “Noooo!” A shout when it was smeared across her throat and chest.

“A lamb for a lamb.”

The rest of the liquid in the flask was poured in a circle around the tree where she sat, splashing against her feet and calves. The leather pouch vanished in purple smoke and new gloves appeared on royal hands, meticulously tugged into place as if that was all that mattered.

“I’m not a lamb!” 

Heels moved back to the nickering stead.

“I’m a _person!_ ”

And mounted.

“Wait! Where are you going?” And when no answer came, panic did. “You can’t just leave me here!”

“I may do whatever I like, girl, simply because it is my pleasure.” Regina gave the blonde a once over, face expressionless, but something poked at the back of her mind at the plea for recognition radiating from green eyes. Such beautiful eyes… and she did something she rarely did, offer a choice. “Answer correctly even one of my two questions and I will untie you, take you back to the castle, and you may simply feel my cane for your insolence today.”

Panting and hopeful not to be left as food for whatever lived here, and maybe that she had somehow chipped away with her own chisel at the hard heart she knew beat beneath a breast. “And if I don’t?”

“I will leave you to your fate. The gamble is entirely yours.”

“What do you want to know?”

“First question; what is your name?”

Emma clenched her jaw, fighting to hold back the answer pulling at her mouth. The Queen appeared indifferent to her struggle.

“Last question, last chance; what is my title?”

Easier, but she would lose just as much ground giving into that one. Teeth chewed her inner cheek and her nostrils flared in anger and pride; that much, she’d gained back. And that gave her hope and some grit. She didn’t want another taste of the cane, but she also didn’t want to be a sitting duck… or, swan.

“Queen.”

A double edge of the same sword, Majesty and Queen, a clever play on words that meant the same thing. _‘Precision my ass. Queen is your title, look up what title means in the dictionary.’_ Emma thought and smiled inside at her small win.

Regina blinked and rolled her neck back as velvet laughter echoed around them. Maybe this girl had some wit after all and that intrigued her, still she was not yet accurate enough.

“Touché’ girl. Majesty is a title used when _speaking_ of or to a sovereign, usually preceded by the word ‘your’ or another pronoun, which you have yet to have picked up on. I would expect the most basic attention to protocol from a Princess. Still a failure, none the less, no matter how clever you think you are.”

It was Emma’s turn to blink and as the horse began to back step away from the tree she realized the Queen was calling her bluff.

“REGINA!” The scream would cost her, but in the moment those brown eyes met hers it was worth the fraction of comfort they unknowingly offered.

Hoofs rode away and with it Emma’s sense of safety. She was alone in the woods as dusk approached. Bound and with fresh blood coating her body. The wind came first and on it the singing of a wolf’s distant howl.

“Shit!”

Cursing more than the woman that left her Emma struggled against Rope and in response it tightened. The slack she’d been afforded was lost. Lungs strained against the fibers that cut into her skin.

Hours passed as she breathed and tried not to cry in between. She wondered if the Queen would return and something itched inside her at the want of that thought. Was she being punished or was this a new lesson?

The howl came again refocusing her, closer this time. Something shifted in her peripheral vision; a black flash. She closed her eyes, hot tears leaving as she heard the ground shifting behind her. Panting, not her own, then a swipe of wet heat against her instep. Cracking her right eye, a shriek wanted to come, but nothing did when a great set of yellow eyes met her own.

Wolf eyes.

Luminous with hunger. These same eyes eclipsed, like a reptile blinking, and something flashed across the golden orbs. Impossibly long fangs bared and a growl rumbled through the wood.

Sweat slicked her skin in sheets and try as she did to be still, her shaking seemed to irritate the beast. Those teeth came at her throat, but instead of a bite a lick was given between nicks of teeth. As the great muscle worked the blood from her neck, then chest another chip fell away, another piece of the vessel keeping her mind intact.

The wolf growled again and it vibrated against Emma’s cheek. She nearly wet herself until…

“Is that anyway to greet your Mistress?”

A soft whimper followed; from both beast and girl.

Dried blood clung to the muzzle of the black wolf as it pulled back heels approached crunching over dirt. A hand, bare this time came to rest atop her head and the other itched the scruff of the canine relative. Emma caught a flash of ruby, many of the stones in a gold ring around the thick furry neck.

“I see your first play date was a success.”

Green eyes bugged, realization flooding her features between wild beats of a heart. “Play date… Like a damn chew toy!? For t-that thing?”

“She,” Regina corrected, indicating the wolf that smiled at the blonde, “needed some fun along with a good run and today you volunteered. Lucky you.”

Emma wrinkled her nose at that twisted logic, finally relaxing against the tree when she realized she was not about to be dog kibble. She wondered if this wolf might just be a friend in animal form.

“Meet my pet, Red.” Another affectionate scratch was given and in response a pink tongue licked a nose over a sharp fang. “She outranks you and make no mistake to whom her loyalty belongs to. One word or gesture from me and she will make sure you know your place.”

Emma filed away another lesson learned and she realized she’d forgotten; titles and pronouns, possessive ones, were important to Regina. In her fear and anger she dismissed what she shouldn’t have and in stubborn pride forgot what Regina had said the night she proposed, hearing those words now clear in her mind.

_‘I am your best friend Emma, your lover and your life partner and I am willing, for you, to be a wife, but not yours... in that way I belong to no one.’_

 

Veiled in shadows, this Queen she butt heads with was still Regina at the raw bit of heart that beat under iron and she loved Regina, all of her. So she said and promised she could when the brunette had asked if she was sure years ago. 

If it was true that there was not a way home… _‘but there has to be…’_ then Emma was left to prove that promise.

And even after what she’d went through today she was still sure of her words and that scared her. Here, a few words proved to be life and death important, and an overgrown fur ball now held the other end of Rope after a regal hand. And Emma wondered if it was the only hand she would ever know again.

Regina smiled almost kindly when her words of warning that followed were anything but. “Take heed girl. My title better return to your vernacular the next time you dare speak. Or the next set of teeth at your throat will be mine and I am not so distracted by blood.”

And Emma knew then without a shadow of doubt she was royally fucked.

::::::::::

A/N - See end for fan art. Also below is a summary of beginning points if it was tough to follow OR for a quick reference point as the story moves along:

-Rumple added a twist to original dark curse so he could rule a Dark Realm and everyone in it.

-Regina killed him right before it was cast – dagger and body of Dark One absorbed in curse.

-Curse fragmented splitting into versions of reality that could have existed, but are not real (think dream scapes) and all realms were destroyed and reformed into Dark Realm (DR)

-DR stuck in time loop, no one ages, their memories in tack since the curse fragmented the ones Regina planned them to have became lost, forming the dream scape Storybrooke Emma is from.

-Charmings banished to far corner of DR, but safe due to Emma’s sacrifice.

-Baby Emma escaped in time where she grew in said dream scape, but a rare loophole allowed her one way entry to DR

-Regina is cursed too (live out worst fear) and gets some hope to change her life here when Emma arrives, but is unable to shift her mind there (curse)…. Yet.

-Emma is beginning to succumb to curse as well, her fear; no place to call home or sense of belonging

-Regina is only one with magic and told Emma nothing of the curse yet, just that Emma is in DR.

-Emma has not told the Queen they were to be married and still thinks there’s a Storybrooke to go back to, but it never was real to begin with and there nothing, but this realm left.

-That leaves Henry, which will be addressed later….

**Make sense? Also please review – this helps me gauge interest and the reception to this piece and if I should continue. I also take requests/ideas for interactions between these two.**

Thank you!


	5. Unraveling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N – WARNING-Past rape in a flashback (italics) and some details given, but not graphic. Header for flashback will be given so you can avoid it if you want to…**
> 
> *Regina is in no way happy in the Dark Realm, and learning about the dream scape from Emma of what could have happened if her curse had been successful only made her further so. She is just as trapped/cursed as anyone and doesn’t wish to be. Emma’s appearance brought her some hope, but she’s so stuck in her cycle of shadows and revenge she’s struggling to see that anything else but her current existence is possible.*
> 
> -Fanart at end of chapter_

:::::::::::::  
Unraveling  
:::::::::::::

One thing became apparent to Emma the next morning upon waking again curled up in fur as she was nudged with the toe of a boot to rise. And again when the ritual of discomfort and gentle touch commenced.

She was unraveling.

And seemed unworthy of the Queen’s words as her hair was griped and the kiss finally made it to her mouth, a brush of lips and then nothing. No question, just expectation. Emma waited and so did the Queen. Finally after five minutes of a one way staring contest from eyes Emma didn’t dare meet she spoke.

“Girl… Majesty?” A whispered question.

And still the Queen waited.

“Girl your Majesty.” With finality and resignation, with that obedience she was released.

Fingers snapped once, pointing to a plate and heels walked away.

Emma wondered at the quiet as she ate. By now she had a feel for getting the food in her mouth without it rolling off of the plate or making a mess. Hands went behind her back automatically; Rope not needed for that restraint and she was determined to keep it that way.

Hours passed as the Queen worked and Emma just was. She would kill for something to do other than sit. Her fidgeting caught an eye and a finger beckoned her over to the desk as Rope released her ankle. That same hand went up in a stopping motion as Emma went to her feet and a point to the floor with another beckoning motion was given. She was to crawl and she did for lack of something better to do, right to where a boot tapped the carpet on the left of the Queen’s chair and she knelt there in wait.

A ringed hand was laid lightly on the back of her exposed neck, her hair had been coiled around her head again, seemingly the style the Queen preferred. The hand simply rested there. Emma shifted her heels, trying to get comfortable and sharp nails dug into her skin. She tried to duck under them, but froze and they relaxed instantly. She tested what she thought might be a pattern by moving again, sharpness a bit more this time came and then nothing.

Emma tried to hold the position, not use to such long periods of stillness. She needed to move and did after an hour. Nails dug in enough causing her to squeak and she froze when she felt a trickle of warmth lazily drip down the left side of her neck. She daren’t move as the hand once again relaxed and then the red tear from torn skin crested her nipple and dropped with a splat to her lap. A tiny red rose against alabaster. The Queen had been right; when she made Emma bleed the awareness of it screamed with every fiber in her body and it had only taken one prick of a nail.

Yet she braved a question, her eyes looking down a nose at her lap.

“Your Majesty?” She could feel the attentive gaze on her and a brief nod within the skirt of her vision was given to continue. “My legs are numb. If it pleases you, may I change position?”

Careful phrasing gained her another nod without any rebuke and as she moved her new lesson became clear. She could ask and she may or may not receive, but making her own choice was not an option. The hand left her neck then and returned with a thick book that was balanced on her head. Hands then returned to the desk to work and she was ignored.

_‘I’m a table.’_ Emma thought and sighed inside.

The lesson taught and now monitored without the Queen having to give any attention. If she moved without asking the book would announce her failure, and the penalty was clear and so was something else; she was being trained.

The Queen continued on with her work, but her mind, as it had been all day, drifted back to the girl’s comment yesterday; after she had lost her temper and before the promise had been made.

_No one owns me._

Long ago, Regina had said those very words to the wrong person who, to her devastation, proved her right…

 

::::::::: **Flashback - Enchanted Forest – Pre/curse, Many years ago, King Leopold’s Castle** :::::::::

_His hands._

_Regina had memorized them; callous, stubby nail beds, knobby knuckles and all. They were older than her father’s and far from kind behind closed doors. Her skin crawled under them and the most private parts of her were no stranger to their menace. She’d learned early to bend under them, move as they did and when she failed, which was often those first few months, she paid as she did now._

_For his age he had vigor and a hunger that was not easily satisfied as he reminded her every day. Forced under, over, and backwards; surface mattered not, nor did her tears. She couldn’t remember when she had stopped crying altogether and the silence took over as he rode her. Sometimes lazily, more often hard and she took it because she had no choice. No Savior, no Knight would come and free her, because she was forgettable, stupid and naive._

_He said so._

_Her own Mother said so._

_And so, it must be true._

_Yet, Daniel had said otherwise._

_Her father, too._

_So which was true?_

_After her true love had been ripped away and her fate thrown into royal hands, Regina lost a piece of herself and more each time a door closed, hands found her, and words chipped away her heart. The moment ‘I do’ passed her lips she began to tear in two and young as she was, a child really, there was no fighting his will._

_Her ears rang from the slap as she refocused her attention on his feet, his ring cutting her upper lip. The metallic taste wet her tongue and she flinched when a descending hand grazed her untouched cheek, a tease. Usually he was more careful to keep wounds where dresses and corsets would cover to scratch and squeeze tight as reminders of her failures, but she’d forgotten herself in one defying phrase._

_“What did you say to me?” His tone damning. “Speak!”_

_Regina closed her eyes at her mistake as salt rolled down her face, willing the words forth again. “I said no one owns me.”_

_That night and every night for a month he raped more than her body; locked away in a small closet off of his room with no light, no air, and no relief from his words or her own thoughts. Mind and body were consumed. The court was told she’d gone visiting to a neighboring kingdom, a gilded coach with no one inside was watched by a cherished little Princess through a tower window who waved goodbye._

_Food came or it didn’t._

_Water was the same._

_A bucket for her necessary sat in a corner._

_When he spent himself she felt every hot invader swimming toward her womb and yet no child formed in the six months they’d been married and for that she was grateful. He was not. Fists and strap reminded her so. Still by the last day of her confinement she had not broken._

_She didn’t break when that closet opened and she was hosed off, like a dog, and forced to redress in the mask of finery and a forced smile. And still not when a cheery inquiry about her visit was asked by a rosy mouth. Or, when little arms pressed too tightly on beaten flesh beneath heavy silk. Nor when she sat between father and daughter at a table not long enough to share a meal that evening as if they were one happy family._

_No, she was stronger than that. She was Regina and she was a Queen._

_When she was allowed to return to her own chambers that night, after another round of brutal sex that left her bleeding and raw, the mute maid stripped her body for bed. She was left alone in a simple sheer shift and cracking eyes found the mirror._

_A phantom peered back._

_Regina’s shaking hand found the glass, tips grazing a reflection she didn’t recognize. His echoing words when he had finally tired of her that night took effect._

_"You were right. No one owns you because they can not love you. You are not worth love and damn the fool that ever does."_

_And finished tearing her in half._

_As hope left her, a shadow replaced it; the birth of hatred for herself, the King, and for the Princess whose betrayal began her unraveling…_

:::::::::::::::: **The Dark Realm – Black Castle** ::::::::::::

Regina came back to the present as a small sigh escaped the girl kneeling nearby. Wanting space to calm her heart she removed the book and gave a finger flick toward the fur across the room.

Dismissed, Emma crawled and took up her same posture, kneeling back straight, chin level with eyes to the floor. Twenty minutes later she heard a quill drop and parchments shuffling. Heels clicked over and the Queen came to settle on the winged chair. A sweep of the wrist summoned mid-day meal, Emma guessed from the kitchen where some faceless soul had the pleasure of preparing them for the Queen. Her plate was set by a hand, not magic, at her knees and she flinched when the silence was finally cut.

“Tell me what you are thinking. You may speak freely as long as your tone and speech remain respectful.” Regina palmed a knife and began to delicately slice rare meat on a gold plate. 

The efficiency was not lost on the blonde and she swallowed, but didn’t further move to touch her own food. Ritual and permission were lacking.

“Just now or before, your Majesty?”

A brow rose. “I care not, but for the truth. I expect that always from you and in return when I chose to share information with you, I will give you truth as well.” She knew she had to give something back now and then to gain the girl’s trust. The eyes staring at her hands had lost what trust had been there the first day.

Emma wondered at this rare flash of insight and knowing she couldn’t lie if she tried, spoke her thoughts. “I was thinking about being caught your Majesty and... Is Red how you found me so fast, in the woods last week during the chase?” She refused to call it a hunt, even though that’s what it had been. 

“You were simple enough to track. Traces of your clumsy route were blaring in your panic. She caught your scent at the Castle gate and wanted to join my hunt, but I bid her no, promising her a turn another day.” 

That meant the Queen could understand and communicate with the wolf. Emma filed that knowledge away as further clarity splashed a pale face with a red wave. “Wait.... You were gonna put me through being bait for her, with the march, the blood, and leaving me there no matter how I acted, weren’t you... Majesty?” Remembering and then, it fully registered. “Just because you could…”

Regina paused, a morsel of meat just a breath away from her lips. “Eventually yes, your choices that day just sped up the inevitable. Now you understand, girl, though it took you long enough.” And the meat was consumed; praise with a bite. 

Emma slouched and threw up her hands. “Then what’s the point of me even trying to obey your rules Majesty, whatever they are for the day?” Then unable to help it, straightened when disapproving eyes narrowed. 

“That is entirely your decision and the only one you are granted. I reward perfection and sometimes effort, will correct for anything less, and rarely remind as I just did. My rules are not hidden; you have just been choosing not to see them.”

Maybe she was choosing before, because today the one being taught was clear without words. The Queen had understood that, and redirected in a way Emma couldn’t help, but notice. The execution of such precise and calculated instruction reminded Emma of the Mayor’s almost obsessive attention to detail in all things. 

Where had Regina gotten it from? Cora maybe, in part, though Regina admitted abuse from her mother, the woman was never around enough to extract this quality in her daughter. 

_‘So who had been and why?’_ Emma realized she’d gotten lost in her thoughts when expectant eyes waited for an acknowledgement.

“Maybe so, your Majesty.”

Regina nodded, accepting that answer for now. “For today you have earned one privilege for your efforts.” 

A spoon, carved of fine wood appeared next to Emma’s plate. Blonde brows scrunched at the next command that came without the ritual.

“Eat.” 

She licked her lips and her stomach knotted. Food would not settle well when she was this conditioned. 

“Must I model how to hold a utensil?” 

The blonde closed her eyes at what she was about to ask, but knowing now she could ask for things, she wondered why she did. And then longing for something kind, something familiar, and warm she spoke. “May I have something else instead, Majesty?”

Regina waited and so did Emma. 

After a few minutes the Queen beckoned with a finger and knees crawled toward her. A pale chin was lifted and the kiss she offered, usually brief and impersonal, left nothing to the imagination. 

Emma’s lips were consumed; sucked, bit, nibbled and licked. Just as sudden as a red mouth ate her it left her wanting. She dropped her chin for a moment, catching a breath. A delicate brush of the Queen’s fingers found the crown of her head and for a moment she lost herself in their caress.

“Now eat.”

Emma shivered not expecting the depth of that mouth to suck her in, stomach loosening, and a different hunger returned. “Yes your Majesty.”

A wrist flick vanished the spoon away, reward given, in a puff of purple smoke and the silence returned, but for each Queen and Emma, it held something new.

And two ends of unraveled heart strings; one old, one new brushed against each other.

:::::::::::::

Please Comment :-) Thanks!


	6. Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See new tags. This one is dark folks...Not all is as it seems nor is it Regina’s fault. See end notes.

::::::::::::  
Monster  
::::::::::::

“Does she have to be so close your Majesty?” Emma pulled her chin back from the wolf who decided to get up close and personal with a nose as the scent of lunch was sniffed from her breath. A tongue lolled outside of sharp teeth, heat from it making her sweat. By now she was pretty sure the fur ball wouldn’t hurt her, at least without the Queen’s consent, but those jaws could easily snap her neck and she didn’t want to take any chances of inadvertently pissing the thing off.

 

Regina rolled her eyes, but snapped her fingers, calling her pet to heel up beside her on the chaise. The wolf was allowed to curl up along the Queen’s legs, a snout resting on a leather clad hip. Regina fed Red a bit of chicken from her plate and offered a brief scratch behind big ears when it was delicately taken.

 

Emma watched them and wondered how Red came to be at the Queen’s side and so willingly, or was it coerced. She tried asking a few days ago and her repetitive efforts had been rebuffed when she hadn’t gotten the hint that it was not up for conversation. The gag she’d been forced to wear the rest of that day still had her jaw sore. She had learned that the Queen didn’t mind conversation when they shared time during meals, as long as she was careful with her words and tone, most times it seemed welcomed. So she began to get in the habit of asking what came to mind over the next few days, but not repeating her earlier mistake. Sometimes she was answered, sometimes redirected and other times no response was given. That was as good as it was going to get, it seemed.

 

“Is she always like that? In wolf form, Majesty?”

 

Regina turned her focus from yellow eyes back to the girl that by now bent to eat the last piece of food on a plate, having forgotten for a moment that the blonde had knowledge of another version of Red that didn’t exist. “She is.”

 

“So, does that thing around her neck,” Emma pointed to the ruby encrusted collar, “keep her from changing Majesty or what?”

 

“No.”

 

Emma’s brain wondered at that and gave up on that line of questioning when it seemed she wouldn’t get any details. Switching gears to something more personal, she reached out to try again to understand more of the woman she was stuck with. “What do you do for fun, Majesty?”

 

“Fun?” Regina scoffed.

 

Emma lifted her head enough to look at the Queen’s mouth. “Yeah, fun your Majesty. You know… that thing people do when they are not working.” Though sarcastic she kept that out of her tone, earning her an amused twitch of red lips.

 

Royal fingers trailed along Red’s spine as an idea floated through her mind. Perhaps it was time to have a bit of ‘fun’ with the blonde. That peasant word tasted sour. Discipline and training could be feathered in with some amusement she supposed. It had been some time since she allowed herself to indulge, be frivolous and she wondered if the creature kneeling at her feet could keep up. The girl appeared to have an athletic build, strong shoulders, toned legs and arms. Her eyes traveled the white road of a collar to the dip at the base of a throat and down, down, down to the apex hidden by blonde curls. A hidden jewel her fingers longer to wear. A growl began deep in the back of her mouth causing the wolf beside her to whimper and a shudder from pale shoulder. That would be remedied another day when the blonde was willing. A ways off yet. Time to teach a different kind of lesson at moment.

 

“I’ll give you a taste of some _fun_ tonight if you are so inclined to know. There is a banquet, a small gathering in the hall. You can be a part of the entertainment.”

 

A pale throat bobbed as the Queen summoned a piece of coiled white leather in hand and Emma prayed it was not for her as it was laid on the floor by the chaise.

 

“This is for you.”

 

Knees shifted back on carpet as insides began to liquefy.

 

Regina arched a dark brow, enjoying the fear saturating the air. “Not that way dear girl, at least not today. Take it.”

 

In a cold sweat, Emma crawled over and picked up the leather she apparently wouldn’t be feeling on her skin today, seeing now it was a small whip, about four feet long with a stiff handle. Questioning eyes looked up to a red mouth.

 

“Follow me.” Heels rose and strode to the middle of the great room. A finger flick had Rope release an ankle as princess joined her, the girl kneeling up with a raised hand. “You may stand for this and watch my wrist closely.”

 

Another whip, this one a foot longer, thick and black uncurled from a royal hand as Emma stood and observed. Regina began to roll the leather through the air, a liquid movement, snake like for several minutes as green eyes studied her. She paused, setting the whip on air with magic as she went to stand behind the blonde. Emma stiffened as an arm stretched along her right one and hand took the back of her own and shook. The white whip rolled out and a hand guided hers in the same figure eight motion for an equal length of time.

 

“That is how you move it. Leather is a warm instrument; it will follow your lead if you lead it well.” Regina went back to her whip and demonstrated how to crack it. Over the course of two hours she instructed the girl how to wield the woven leather. “Now, you have the rest of the day to practice, use the floor as your target. That is all you need know.”

 

Dismissed and confused as to where this would was going Emma obeyed and discovered she actually had some talent, able to land the whip within a foot range of where she focused, hardly cracking, that was difficult, but landing close to target. As twilight settled in, the Queen began to move about the chamber, readying herself for the banquet in a high collared jeweled waist coat. As new leather pants, so thin and supple were drawn up over bare tan legs, Emma diverted her eyes to the floor and was surprised to be called over to the wardrobe. She carefully set the white whip down and crawled over and fingers snapped, beckoning her to stand again.

 

“When we leave my chamber you may walk beside me, a pace behind and to my right. I will direct your movements from there as I have been. Watch for my hand.” She summoned an almost sheer white dress, fine quality, but simple in design and gave it to pale hands. “Dress.”

 

Emma struggled pulling the garment over her head. It had been almost five weeks since she’d worn clothing and the feel of it now was almost foreign, but she took comfort that she wouldn’t be on full display for whoever was going to be at the banquet. The gauzy fabric had a deep V in the front and back, with thin straps resting on her shoulders. A cinched empire waist allowed her hips to move freely and there a slit on each side of her thighs to the hip, fabric stopping at her ankles.

 

She was afforded a moment to get used to it before the Queen bid her to fetch the white whip and moved toward the door. She followed in haste, remembering to keep to the right and a step behind the Royal who carried a heavier and darker version of the same leather. Emma realized then that she was still in the Queen’s vision as they walked and assessable to correct in a flash if needed and any temptation she had to run at the moment went away as she felt a sharp invisible prick of a knife at the base of her spine propelling her feet forward. She wondered if the Queen could somehow read her thoughts and instantly visualized a white wall around her mind. As the cool air of the castle hallway rushed at them, Emma’s nipples stood at attention, pink soldiers getting ready for battle. Blushing she picked up her bare feet to keep up with the relentless clicking of heels on stone.

 

Entering the hall, all eyes were on them and heads bowed low as they walked up the black runner toward the throne, few she recognized, most she didn’t, but before she could think past that a flash of a finger directed her knees to kneel on the right side of the throne. A thin white cushion rested there for her use. When the Queen had settled the room moved again, becoming a blur of mingling and noise. Dish after dish was brought in front of the Queen in offering; quail eggs, pheasant, boar, and lamb. Emma wondered if the last had been the one whose blood has been painted on her skin. A little from each was taken to a gold plate that rested on a table to the Queen’s left.

 

Emma’s mouth watered at the rich smells in the air. All of her meals had been nourishing, but simple in flavor and assembly. She dropped her gaze from the gold fork at red lips when brown eyes swung her way. A minute later she felt a finger under her chin, drawing it up and another kiss, this one soft and patient was given before a small cube of cheese was held beneath her nose. Permission to eat was granted and white teeth carefully took the offering into a wet mouth. She chewed. Swallowed and repeated with bits lean meats in between cubes. When the lamb came to the crest of her lips she hesitated.

 

“I-I don’t think I can, Majesty.”

 

A dark brow rose and fell with indifference. “If you won’t consume what is offered then you will have nothing.” A cut and dry consequence she could see the girl wasn’t expecting. No matter, what was going to happen later was best done on an empty stomach.

 

The offerings stopped and Emma speculated at the intimacy and the small loss she felt when those fingers moved away. She shook her head sharply. Part of her longed to bite the hand that fed and another never wanted it to stop. That paradox made her head spin and heart roar. The choice had been taken from her as the Queen finished her own meal. Music, a lively beat of drums and strings, began to pulse through the court several minutes later and Emma perked up when the Queen leaned over, bringing lips to her ear.

 

“It is time for the entertainment.” Regina smiled as the heat of her breath drew goose flesh on the blonde’s neck. “You have an untamed feline grace girl; one I will see to that you display more of, so tonight we dance.” She stood, beckoning with a gesture.

Mind leaping between the riddle of words, Emma followed to the middle of the room, people stepping back to form a respectful ring of distance around them. Regina turned suddenly and green eyes found the floor as heels stepped back a dozen paces. The tempo of the beat increased and the black whip uncoiled, snapping just at her bare toes. Emma jumped back with a yelp. It hadn’t touched her but the sound was violent. Another crack, this time near her other foot. The Queen circled, whip spinning in hand and a nod of a regal chin toward the white whip in Emma’s hand gave clarity.

A whip dance.

Emma bit her lip, but straightened her spine, beginning to mimic the circular steps the Queen was making and moving her wrist in the pattern that had been taught. She tried to flick it at the toe of moving boots, but each strike was deflected and each failed crack from her earned a black tongue nipping at the hem of her dress, shredding the fine fibers with each hit.

Her skin tickled under the precision of each crack coming from the Queen, but the whip never bit her flesh. Sweat dripped down the hallow of her throat and the pace picked up. Emma summoned all of her focus to get just one good crack at those black feet. Her dress became a shredded mess, a floating mist around dancing legs. Green eyes dared a look into russet orbs and in that moment of connection the white whip bit back, catching the tip of a boot. A red smile was given as a reward before fingers snapping reminded green to return to the floor. The dance slowed and feet stopped.

As the Queen approached, Emma dropped knees to stone in both acknowledgement and exhaustion, adrenaline leaving her body at a wicked speed. The toe of a boot, the same one her whip had struck, was placed in her line of vision.

“A kiss from your lips here,” Regina pointed to her boot. “Or my whip will kiss your back.”

Her win of a crack had stopped the dance between them, but her eyes cost a chance to relish it. Having seen the skill that hand had, she has no doubt it could tear flesh from bone and so she bent, apologizing with her mouth as quickly as she could.

Bid to rise and follow she did, back down the dark carpet, back to the privacy of the Queen’s chamber and she hoped that brief kiss would be enough to save the rest of her skin that night.

::::::::::::::::::::::

It ended up being enough until the next afternoon. The Queen worked as she always did at the great desk after breakfast. Mid-day brought different patterns, sometimes Emma would be left alone with the wolf and Rope for company while the Queen took care of business elsewhere. Today a knock on the door and a word to enter brought the head guard, a sharper version of Graham bowed deeply and in hushed tones they conversed. The royal flicked dark eyes over and Emma’s stomach knotted. Graham kept his head down and backed slowly out of the room. Emma didn’t miss how carefully, precisely he moved since delivering whatever news he had to the Queen.

An angry heat pooled in, swirling around them from nowhere natural. Red whined at the sudden change in her Mistress’ mood, ears back and tail tucked as Emma smartly ducked her head and took another bite of her breakfast as heeled boots left the room. Red’s head finally lifted off of a silk pillow on the chaise, after watching her Mistress depart and then accusing yellow eyes found the blonde.

Green eyes narrowed at the stare down. “What are you looking at Lassie? I didn’t piss her off, not this time anyway.”

Ears perked forward and a furry head tilted, seemingly in question.

Emma sighed, forgetting the wolf could understand human speech. “It’s from a show… a story…the name of a famous dog from my world.” She bent to finish her meal and startled back when a growl answered.

Red leapt off the chaise, heavy paws moving toward a plate still half full.

“Hey! That’s mine!” Emma grabbed for her dish, but another snarl, this time with teeth stopped her hand and she dropped it with a sigh. “Fine no more dog jokes.”

She watched as the wolf gave pause and then a nose shoved the plate back toward pale knees. Before Emma could ask her next thought the chamber doors burst open, slapping the walls with a din of thunder that rolled into the room. Emma froze in the middle of her dip back to the plate, not daring to move least she draw attention to herself.

Whatever brief business that had called the Queen away this time had clearly not gone well. The blonde was never sure of what matters the Queen attended too, but something or someone had clearly decided to run against the grain of what patience the dark woman possessed. And when those violent eyes found her she knew she was about to pay the price.

“Red.” Regina’s eyes never left the girl. “Bring her to the court yard. Girl you have but one task, do not speak.” Her will given a turn followed sharply, the skirts of the midnight gown cutting the floor in her wake.

Rope snaked to wrap around wrists in a tight knot and the other end was picked up by a snout. As Emma stumbled to her feet, brain scrambled in frantic panic at what could possibly be waiting for her in the eye of the Queen’s storm. She stumbled trying to keep up with quick paws as she was led through the maze of castle corridors. They passed magically through a door wasn’t there in the wall. The high noon of sun blinded her path and she blinked rapidly to try and get a sense of what was around her. Feet touched earth, hard and dry under her, then gravel and bits of grass. The court yard was barren, a vast four walled room with the open sky as a ceiling. One thing rested in the middle and before Emma could protest her belly came to rest against the wood of it, arms drawn high over head by Rope to the ring at the top. Breathing came quick as her breasts heaved and she registered what she was bound to and what it meant.

Boots on gravel circled her, stopping behind. Emma could feel those eyes consuming her flesh as she was sure whatever was in the Queen’s hand she caught a glimpse of in the sunlight would. Lips parted to beg and closed instead around a grunt. The lash she expected was not one, but one made of several falls that fell against her back in long stokes. As the leather teased her skin to a hot blush Emma could hear the Queen breathing deep and heavy, opposite of her quick and shallow ones. This wasn’t as bad as she was expecting it to be and she wondered why, too late before the many falls were exchanged for one much sharper that bit into her shoulder. Another fell, and another.

Pain was the color white, Emma was certain, like an iron heated beyond the blaze it could stand and pain was a strobe light behind her eyes. As suddenly as the white was there it was consumed by the darkness of nothing. A hand, warm and trailing moved down her spine and Emma shivered and yelled when nails raked up in the opposite direction over tender skin. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks and red lips caught one to taste, a tender caress amidst ache.

“W-why Majesty?”

Regina stilled, two words from a mouth slapped like ice water forcing her to rise up from the depths of the shadowed abyss where she had finally found her calm. She threw down the whip in frustration, free hand like lightening moved for the throat that spoke and it choked just enough to make those green eyes roll back before she released, finding her calm once again in their wake.

“I gave you one instruction. One. Repeat it.”

Emma’s brain scrambled to remember and in dawning she went slack against the post keeping her upright. “You s-said do not speak, your Majesty.”

“You are not ready for the answer to the question you ask.”

Pink lips rolled in tight. She needed to understand though, if she was going to survive the moods of the Queen, she needed to know just who and what she was dealing with on what was appearing to be a bad day for the royal. That was one step closer to home, she reasoned. That dark pull inside her heart whispered that home was very far away. Maybe unreachable. Even so she forced her mouth to speak.

“With all due respect your Majesty or should I say your Monstrosity, I need to know what crawled so far up your ass that resulted in me being your punching bag when I didn’t do a damn thing to deserve it.” The words were out before she could check them and a hand returned to the back of her neck in a vice grip as the leather gag from a few days before found her mouth. It stretched across the lower half of her face and tightened at the back of her head. Rope released above her head and she found her footing, not nearly as weak as she thought she would be.

“Red, the hall.” The wolf’s jaws snapped up the Rope leash and pulled the blonde along behind her as the Queen swept into the castle door.

Emma didn’t miss how servants scattered and guards stood straighter as they passed. Fear of the unknown, something she was suddenly aware that she should, pricked her spine. The occupants in the dark hall rippled away as the Queen entered. Emma was made to kneel where she had the previous night to the Queen’s left. Everyone’s eyes were anywhere but on the dark woman in the room and it took Emma a full minute to realize they were all on her. All with a plea of hope she couldn’t place tucked behind dilated iris’.

“Bring the prisoner forward.” The cutting command was obeyed with careful haste and a man was brought to kneel at the base of the dais steps.

To Emma he appeared of noble birth, clothing carefully tailored and of fine quality, but she could not place him within the Storybook pages she remembered. She wondered what he did to have the chains at his wrists and ankles. _‘He probably breathed wrong.’_ A thought and sigh that wasn’t missed by dark eyes, ones that leaned closer to hers and she wisely dropped her own.

“You called me a monster and yet you have no idea what that word means or what falls under it. Observe and we will speak after the fact and see if you still feel the same way girl.” Regina rested her hand on the back of a pale neck wanting to feel the girl’s reaction and moved her eyes back to the trembling form she refused to acknowledge as a man. “For the crime of rape, the rape of an innocent, the sentence is a full shave.”

Blonde brows knitted as her eyes took in the deathly quiet room and the faceless noble that now had a face. _‘What the fuck does she mean by that?’_

The Queen turned to Graham. “Use your dullest knife and I want nothing left. Do what you must to keep _it_ awake.”

Kneeling noble was yanked to feet over to a post that had magically appeared on a white cloth. A scream wanted to escape the gagged mouth and wrists were bound high so a belly faced the room. Royal fingers snapping stripped the prisoner of clothing and ankles were anchored shoulder width apart. Three guards surrounded the prisoner; one held a bowl, another one a knife, and the last one in the middle blocked Emma’s view. The only thing wide green could see were bulging eyes, vessels popping and her ears rung with the guttural screams trying to come from behind leather. Red currents ran down the noble’s legs and a sickening splat of tissue and skin landed in the bowl held between twitching feet.

Then nothing.

“Hang _it_ from the gate. Everyone else is dismissed.”

Emma closed her eyes at the relief from the people that washed the room, tears falling, as full understanding of the Queen’s sense of justice ripped through her. Violence for violence—a child rapist—now dead, was dragged away and she was sure the carrion would be food for the crows at Black Castle gate, a clear warning not to dance along the edge of the Dark Queen’s temper or her laws. Emma’s stomach rolled at the visual, but she was not entirely disgusted by the punishment for the crime that had been done and she wondered if that crime was what Graham had brought to the Queen’s ear, earlier. Before she could ponder further heeled boots stood and she was again pulled along behind them back to the bedroom chamber.

Bid to kneel on the rug by the fire, Rope slid to her ankle once again securing her to the metal ring near her furs. The Queen sat on the winged chair directly behind Emma and she jumped when cool hands smoothed over her tender back. Her nose wrinkled at the scent of herbs in the air. Those hands left and returned a moment later, covered in a warm substance and as the pain in her flesh eased Emma knew it was the healing salve that was being massaged into her welts. After a minute, hands left and a tap on the shoulder came. Emma slowly turned her knees to face the Queen and gasped when the leather binding her mouth vanished.

“Now you may speak and ask what you wish, though I warn you to with great care as my temper is a still close by.”

Emma blinked and swallowed. “Is that what your guard came to tell you earlier, your Majesty, before you took me outside?

“It was.”

“Then why, Majesty, did you beat me for his crime?” Emma paled when she saw red lips, blood red, like the rivers running down legs part to answer.

“ _Its_ crime. That masculine pronoun is unworthy of the prisoner.” She corrected, catching a pointed chin in hand. “You, dear girl, are the Savior and the people of this land know it as I do. Did you see the way they looked at you, drunk you in like sweet nectar?”

“Yes your Majesty, but what does that have to—” The grip on her jaw became pinched.

“You are the wall between them and my temper. A buffer when I spiral into rage. Those people in the hall were from _its_ home village, one I allowed to be overseen on a trial basis, self governed, and a trial _it_ took advantage of. _It_ raped a ten year old boy under _its_ care, an innocent that was left for fodder on the outskirts and a crime they all tried to keep hidden from me for the wrath that would evoke.” Regina shifted, loosening her grip as a thumb traced a pale cheek. “The villager’s thank you for their lives, Savior, as the land they live on does for quelling the scorch my hand itched to let roll today.”

Jaw dropped and closed with the help of a softer hand as Emma processed what that meant. The Queen certainly had a temper, one she did not care to see that side of again and after today, she knew she undoubtedly would. How often and for what she was unsure.

“You still think me a monster, Savior?”

Emma jerked at that title in place of the name the Queen had given her. What she was sure of then was the faintest flicker from candle light mirrored in the eyes she dared meet and just as quickly looked away from. Sure then too that the monster she’d labeled the Queen was not in the room; violent, calculating, and unforgiving, yes, but not what she thought and she shivered at the fact.

“No, your Majesty…” Emma braved eyes from red lips up a bit further, thoughts of her son, a son she shared with Regina back home, ever falling victim to such a... “The monster is hanging from the castle gate.”

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A/N- Remember Regina is cursed along with everyone else in this land, not all choices are ones she wants to make. She will start to fight against her dark impulses, ones she can’t control right now when hope becomes more attainable from Emma’s revelation. Clarity on this for Emma and steps forward on a better direction will come from their conversation in the next chapter.


	7. Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentleman they have a breakthrough. :-)

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Truth

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Emma remained quiet the rest of the day of the execution and the next morning, offering only the expected answer to be afforded her meals. Otherwise the Queen left her alone. Red did not, however. The wolf moved freely between the Royal and Savior, from desk to furs, a soft whine occasionally escaping. Regina allowed the pacing of paws and of pale feet across the room. Her irritation was growing, but she kept it well leashed with each round of feet circling a rug. The longer she remained in this cursed land the harder it was to control the rage fisting her heart, what was left of her stolen humanity. Maybe it was time to revel some of what held them all trapped here to the girl who saw without seeing. All of truth at this point was not an option, but perhaps some would still the anger flooding that blonde head and get them back on track for where they needed go.

Dropping quill and parchment. “You still see me as a monster. I suspected as much despite your words from yesterday.”

 

Emma jerked to a halt at that statement, surprised it wasn’t a question. Bravado flushed skin. “If the boot fits, your Majesty, why not wear it?”

 

“I see you are your mother’s daughter after all.” Regina got up from the desk and went to stand by the chaise Red now occupied.

 

Seeing the Queen approach, Emma knelt out of habit, careful to keep her eyes on Red’s yellow ones. She needed the contact of something close to human. “What do you mean by that Majesty?” Biting.

 

Red lips curled. “Adding another label to my title, to my name.”

 

Emma shook her head, not speaking.

 

“Come.” Turning sharply, Regina snapped her fingers releasing the rope from an ankle. It shortened and rebound around pale wrists in front of the fuming blonde.

 

Kneeling up in question at the lack of a leash, Emma took her time standing. Rope was firm, but not uncomfortable. Quivering when those fingers snapped again, clothing her in kid leather pants, tall boots, a warm tunic and cloak. More clothing than she knew what to do with and it was suffocating. She tugged at the shirt collar, fabric binding. Lips parted when dark eyes took in her surprise.

 

“The weather has turned for the season. These garments are necessary.” Said with great distaste. “Follow as before, to my right, one step behind.”

 

Nerves frayed as heavy paws trotted behind them. “Where are you taking me your Majesty?” Royal feet halted unexpectedly and she had to stumble back as not to ram into them. As a hand cupped her cheek, eyes focused on moving lips.

“You need to learn to see, my girl.” At the soft whine in wake, Regina teased a thumb along a full lower lip, adding. “Not all of what I need to teach you will be painful. Now, come along.”

Liquid as the affection was, pink lips thirst like stone when it was gone. Emma shuddered missing it, hating that the Queen seemed to know just how to touch her. Regina, her Regina knew how to make her knees quake and skin gooseflesh with a single look, a raised brow, or a whispering of fingers between inner thighs. The Queen had yet to linger long after a hint of skin to skin and already Emma was losing herself under their touch. Twins realms apart, dark and grey, but somehow the same woman.

_‘That’s not possible Swan, hold it together. Regina is home in Storybrooke with Henry probably figuring out my huge fuck up. She’s gonna be so pissed when she figures out what mess I got sucked into.’_

Feet followed outside into the frost. The valet brought around the black horse and Emma deflated when another did not follow, one more march looked to be ahead. A finger beckoned and to her surprise a small platform of stairs appeared next to shifting hoofs and Emma was bid to get up on the horse’s wide saddle. Clumsy, but managing to swing a leg over, she wiggled for balance and the platform vanished. With a graceful strong lift the Queen mounted behind, Rope was magically secured to the saddle horn as leather encased thighs straddled hers.

“Have you ridden before girl?”

Being up this high was unnerving, being spooned by the woman behind her even more so. “No, your Majesty.” Yet she found body betraying mind as that voice took a seductive tone and a gloved hand rested on an outer hip.

“Relax your hips and let them roll as the canter picks up.” Flicking reins and heels nicking urged the steed forward.

The Queen rode fluidly and a quick pace was set. Red ran ahead, seeming to know where they were going. Emma tried to roll with it so to speak and to focus on anything but those leather encased thighs only a breath between hers. Open ground gave way to a tree line and wooded path for several minutes. For the first time she realized that aside from the hunt, the Queen’s guards rarely accompanied the woman anywhere and she wondered if it was because nothing here could harm the Royal or if there was another reason. Question forgotten as a low stone wall came up through a break in the trees and the horse slowed to a trot. Roofs in the distance rimmed the horizon. For a moment she thought they were burning until she realized the puffs of smoke were from chimneys. Faint laughter and voices, a dog barking through cackles of hens fluttered ahead on the path. As they approached the open gate noise scattered to the winds.

People, skittish, scurrying to part a course as hoofs claimed the ground. A flash of black fur weaved through the crowd ahead. Eyes stared, but as before not at the Queen whom Emma felt the gaze of down the back of her neck. She jumped when that voice broke the sound of silence.

“As you were.”

Three words brought the village back into motion. Feet moved freely around them, though gave a wide breadth. The horse bobbed a head, earning a gently stroke from a gloved hand. Flicker of jealousy bubbled in throat when it had not been for her and Emma grit her teeth at how easily she wanted that touch for herself.

“What do you see?”

Green eyes went back to the sights and sounds around them. “People Majesty. Cows, thatched roofs, horse shit.” At the snort behind she dared a glance over her shoulder.

“Look closer.”

She rolled eyes and tried again. “A market, well and pump, homes…” Shaking head when a tsking came from her words. “A village. I don’t know your Majesty.”

“That is exactly your quandary.”

 

Brow furrowed. “Huh?”

 

Regina scoffed at the blunt sound, fingers itched to correct, but stilled. “You see only what you want to see, not what is actually there. Take off the eyes of assumption and focus. Tell me what you really see.”

 

Emma’s eyes trailed the village once more on panorama, taking in the faces trying not to look their way. Men women and children. Round faces, different colors and ages. Wearing tunics, dresses, cloaks. Warm in the late morning frost. Baskets in hands filled with cloth, potatoes, and herbs. Money. Passing bills and coin. Horses with goats and cattle mingling alike. A boy nudging sheep to the square. Two girls sharing a bucket of water to haul from a pump flowing well.

 

Licking lips. “I see life. But not happy ones Majesty.”

 

“No, they are not, at least when my eyes are present.”

 

It was Emma’s turn to scoff. “You, Majesty, terrify them.” Shivering when lips brushed her ear.

 

“I do, yet they are cared for. There is no poverty in my kingdom. My laws are coldly absolute, penalties clear if broken as you saw yesterday, and I may be unyielding on a bad day, tolerable at best on a good one. I do not apologize for any of it. I know what I am. You have yet too.”

 

“I have a pretty good idea Maj—” Teeth nipped a cord in neck. She inhaled sharply as a tongue rimmed where lips finished sucking a pulse point.

 

“Do you? Tell me, is that because you are confusing me with a version of whom you think I am capable of being or of what is actually real?” Regina settled the reins on the horse’s neck and held out both hands palm up in front of hooded green eyes, chin resting on a shoulder. “These are real and they are capable of marvelous decadence and horrifying destruction. Your body betrays your words girl. How well you know my hands, bend under my fingers and words, fine skin that begs to melt in my mouth.”

 

 _‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’_ Shallow breaths. Emma’s mind spun within the tendrils of allure flowing from red lips. She hadn’t said anything about the relationship she had with the Mayor or the fact they shared a son. Those very real hands claimed her chin and lips were taken in a bruising fashion. Gasping, Emma slammed her eyes shut, chin dropping to chest.

 

“When she kissed you did it ever feel that?”

 

Knees became water. Heart clenching the past as her sex did the saddle now. Angry at her own arousal and fear.

 

“Or like this?” Delicate whispers along a jaw line of little promises to be filled.

 

Consumed, Emma shuddered. “H-how Majesty, did you…” Present moment painful as those hands returned to reins and a red mouth left warmth unfilled.

 

“You call out for her in your sleep.” A grin. “Or should I say me?”

 

Emma’s jaw dropped, then closed as heat pricked her eyes. The Queen now had one of two secrets she’d managed to keep. What would happen when the rest of this one and the first came to light?

 

Soft chuckle. “Speechless? I take it that is unusual for you to experience.” Tugging the reins and a mental call to Red brought the wolf running over and horse on track for the gate. “You may have your silence until we reach my chambers. Use it wisely.”

 

Paling, Emma sucked her swollen lips in, tasting where Regi—no, the Queen left off. Mouth watering at the sweet and sour of apples lingering. The ride back felt like she was swimming underwater, images wavy and noise muffled, breathing unnatural. Another lesson, another layer peeled away leaving naked thoughts exposed. Wondering if the lesson was finished, had she learned to see beyond assumption and the answer knocked against her teeth in jarring manner. The moment the horse became still inside castle walls Emma began to sweat, clothing and fire rising from her core stifling.

 

Following quickly after heels and paws into the hall, the walk to the Queen’s chambers held a welcoming cool breeze against pink cheeks. Breathing was easier when clothes vanished and her hands were freed. Rope to ankle further anchored her to this reality and for the first time she welcomed it’s tether. Knees found furs and the Queen her chaise with Red perched off to the side under a stroking royal hand. As she settled and grounded, she felt those studying, assessing for a lesson learned.

 

Chiding. “Further conviction is needed for you to see what is before you. A monster still in that blonde head, am I?”

 

Head shaking. “May I speak freely your Majesty?” Red whined after her words.

 

“If you must, carefully, yes.”

 

Green sparked. “You really want to go there? After everything, after yesterday’s blind whipping and the execution if you can call it that… He… the prisoner deserved to pay for that crime, maybe even to die for it, but God damn it… How can I not?” Bitterness brought water behind eyes as hope begged to stay afloat. The Queen held the power, possibly knowledge to her only way home. There had to be a way to connect. She could feel heat slowly start to fill the room from her questions, like it had the day before when Graham delivered news of the rape. Swallowing down her anger, Emma tried to school her tone. “Help me out here your Majesty… Give me something to help me understand why you are the way you are.” Hands went out and open palm up on her thighs as tears came. “Maybe then I’ll dig up a thesaurus for a better adjective. Until then it seems I’m just gonna end up broken at the end of your whip. So why should I care.” She did care and dangerously so, but that was being swallowed by the shadows of doubt.

 

Regal fingers gripped between folds of fur and released. “My hand will not break you...”

 

Emma missed those oh so quiet words between her next ones as the darkness tugged hope from her lips at a rapid speed. “Might as well get it over with Majesty… Unless you can give me a reason; just one fucking reason I should care anymore.” Dropping her head as despair began to take her heart.

 

“I am not able to control the darkness.” A red wave rolled the through the room at the admission of weakness. In that raw and honest moment wet green snapped up, mirroring glass of brown before they went black again.

 

Emma froze, hope flickering at the first emotion other than anger or indifference she’d been able to observe. For the briefest moment her Regina, not the Dark Queen, had been looking at her, reaching for her, but her Regina was in Storybrooke… Wasn’t she? This Queen looking at her was not… “Why?” A quiet test without title that earned a growl from the wolf.

 

The Queen went ridged, but did not correct. “There is a curse.”

 

Emma dropped her head. “No shit Majesty. I know all about it, I told you that remember? The one you, I mean the Regina I know, cast that my parents sent me away from.” Her chin was roughly caught, lifted and she was allowed to again meet flashing eyes.

 

“The one _I_ was going to cast, but one the Dark One stole from me and made his own.”

 

“What!?”

 

Red growled louder at the shout, a warning of her own not to provoke the temper hiding in the corners of the room.

 

“Do not raise your voice to me, girl.” Said through gritted teeth. “I gave you some of the truth yesterday when we spoke; you are more than a buffer or a toy, far more and I…” Neck cords strained as another red wave pulled her spine straight. The harder she fought them the harder they broke against her resolve and she stopped to take her breath back. “There’s a curse on this land, this realm, one done by a much darker hand than mine. We are all ensnared by it and soon you will be as well.”

 

Brows knitted as her chin was released. Softer. “What does this curse do Majesty?” At the title and tone something cool swirled around them briefly and left. Whatever it was seemed to ease the tension in the Queen’s face.

 

“As I said yesterday to another question you asked, you are not yet ready for the full answer to that.”

 

It would be the girl’s undoing, all of their undoing, and they were far from where they needed to be for her to be able to keep the promise of mending a broken spirit. One that would break with the truth the rest of her words would someday bring. Her temper often rode a killing edge, quenched only by violence and pain, the curse had seen to that. Leaving her hungry for the light of hope, now only in the Savior’s eyes.

 

Emma struggled not to let her voice shake. “Then Majesty, tell me what you can.”

 

Red lips licked and parted. “Even stripped of magic as you have been by this land you still have power; hope and truth. You have an affinity for them, my magic can taste it, so I will ask you to find both in my next words.”

 

Teeth chewed an inner cheek. “I need to see your eyes for that, Majesty.” Green shifted at two boots. Her super power worked best with eye contact and she could always tell when Regina, the one she knew anyway, was lying.

 

“Then give me your eyes, girl and see.” Regina accepted the hard, but curious stare. “There are parts of who and what I have become since the casting that are not my desire. The darker side of my nature, the heat you feel lapping the walls of the room waiting to consume you is the cause of that. Before you arrived I’ve not been able to even attempt to hone it and yesterday while trying to in the court yard with you it snapped the leash.” Doubt flew across green, but was replaced with something else a moment later. The Queen shook her head. “You think I like killing, maiming, destroying everything and one around me? The curse forced me to be who I never wanted to become. The worst part of humanity, the darkness behind the light the curse feeds on. It twists human nature into something unnatural, something that is unable to be loved or to love. Poisons hearts. But you...” A long calculating pause. “You have time before it consumes you and I will protect you from it for as long as possible.”

 

Emma blinked at the truth in that mind fuck, jaw dropped and eyes blinked again. “So Gold… the Dark One jacked your Majesty’s curse, put his own spin on it, and cast it himself and since he’s not sitting on the throne I can only assume you managed to stop him, but not the curse?”

 

“Yes.”

 

She waited for the sick warmth in her gut, the pull indicating untruth, but there was none and that along with those black eyes flashing brown once more against the sunlight scared the shit out of her. Shivering and spinning. “How does the curse affect everyone else? How will it affect me Majesty? How are you trying to protect me?” The barrage of questions spilled between them making her dizzy. She put both hands out on the rung to steady, startling when they found boots instead. A royal hand found the crown of curls in answer.

 

“It affects everyone a bit differently and things between us need to shift before I can give you the rest of the truth to your second inquiry.” Red laid a paw on her lap, then a head and Regina was relieved as another cool wave splashed about the room, the girl’s deference and respect a soothing balm. “I was training you and will continue to train you to not provoke the dark edge of what I am. I do not wish to hurt you as much I have and will surely again…” A whine from a snout that licked her hand forced the last bit of truth she was able to give. “There is something deeper I sense between us that I am not able to make full sense of yet. A déjà vu if you will. That is all I can and will say for now.”

 

Silence.

 

And it was, as Emma knew beyond as shadow of a doubt. Her gut screamed truth and her heart pounded at the meaning of it. “I think I know why your Majesty.” The Queen had given what she’d asked for, maybe giving something in return would continue to keep something kind between them. “The Regina I know, her and I are together and before I showed up here I had asked her to marry me and she said yes with one exception, that I not call her—”

 

In unison. “My wife.”

 

Green popped open, heart hoping as she dared another glance up. _“Regina?”_ The use of name earned her a wicked glance and the fingers in her hair gripped painfully, but no strike came from it. By the way the hair on the back of her neck stood up Emma was not sure how long that would last. Red canine’s flashed, fur heckled, before a soft yip was given. She wondered at it and the way the Wolf appeared to be attempting to soften the Queen’s anger.

 

“Careful. Last warning.” A glitter of violence danced on her tongue. “Not as you... know her...” Tucked away in mind. _‘Or a version of me that could have existed rather.’_

 

“Majesty?”

 

“At one point in the original curse I wove I hoped to find her again, Regina or what it meant to be her.”

 

Emma wasn’t sure what made her shuffle knees forward. “You did… Not _you_ , but the Regina I know has. Maybe you can to, Majesty?” If she was here for the time being maybe she could help this version of Regina find the light. She hesitated, but reached out a hand to lay over the Royal’s. Darkness from a ringed hand slapped hers away, but the voice of the owner did not.

 

“You are so sure of that, girl?”

 

Shrugging and rubbing her hand. “I’m the Savior, saving people and breaking curses is kind of in my job description. I’ll try not to provoke you or your temper. I’ll try to learn what you have to teach me. In return I just ask that you try to let me in on what you are thinking before I’m tied to a post again or bent over a chaise.”

 

Considering the girl’s words. “I cannot promise that you won’t be or that I will be any more forth coming than I have already been today.”

 

A shudder. “I know, but I’ll still try on my end your Majesty.”

 

“Why?” Hope laced with bitterness.

 

Carefully phrased. “You said you were trying to protect me. So that means you have hope that the curse will break. I love the Regina I know, the one I have hope is waiting for me on the other side of a portal. If portals aren’t working maybe that’s because of the curse and if I break it, then maybe I’ll find my way home your Majesty.” Ache and longing.

 

The Queen turned to Red in thought. Yellow eyes found hers and she sighed. Broken or not there would be no portal to nothing and no promised son for her to get to know, no one real in a tangle of dreams rolling in space and would be memories of an imagined world. The blonde called two names in sleep, one of them belonging to a child named Henry she had no doubt the girl shared with her make believe counterpart. That break of hope in green eyes when she finished giving the truth would be difficult to mend, but perhaps not impossible if she, if they, could fight against the impulses the curse fed into her veins… Break it even, then who knows what may come. She failed to notice Red moving, but the blonde’s squeak of shock did.

 

“She-she-she talked to me… How did…Majesty?” Emma scrambled back away from the wolf approaching her face and slammed her eyes shut as a big tongue lapped her cheek, going slack when teeth didn’t follow.

 

Regina lifted an amused brow. “Seems she has dubbed you a worthy companion.” At the girl’s doubtful look she ‘tsked’. “Wolves choose who they speak to and with whom they lay rest their allegiance. She chose me, not I her. Though, I did save her life, but that is a tale for another day.”

 

Emma nodded, weary as a new gruff, but feminine voice filled her mind. _‘I will call you name Em-ma. You are the Queen’s and in her pack. I protect pack. Queen is Alpha, you run behind me.’_ The tongue licked again laying claim to her and she shook her head relaxing into it. The fur ball was right about one thing, at least for now. She was slowly belonging to the dark woman on the chaise and maybe one who she could be the light for, at least temporally. Giving up hope was not an option, not for her. She suspected it was the one thing keeping the darkness creeping in on her from sweeping her away with everyone else. The Savior was being called to task and quite a different one than she’d first expected since the hunt.

 

“Enough chatter and frivolity.” Standing, skirts sweeping across pale knees. “Come. You will attend court with me this afternoon.”

 

That command pulled Emma from her thoughts. “Please tell me no one’s dying today your Majesty?”

 

“Not today Savior.”

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A/N - Is anyone still reading this and should I continue?


	8. Paradoxes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Just an FYI... Not appropriate for work... ;-) Enjoy!

:::::::::::::::  
Paradoxes  
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Attending court with the Queen was a mostly a quiet affair. Emma listened to cases and problems within Kingdom brought forth by peasants, nobles, and members of the Queen’s council. To each one the woman listened with an attentive ear, proposed solutions for consideration and at times simply gave an order to be completed without question. The final part of court was prisoner sentencing. Depending on the crime, the most severe were brought before Regina while others were handled by the council. Today the man quaking on his knees pleaded for mercy and Emma closed her eyes when none was forth coming.

_‘Not today Savior.’_

Emma reflected on words meant literally and said days ago as she watched the execution in the late afternoon. The man in a drunken rage had beaten his pregnant wife to death was in turn sentenced to be beaten to death by a trio of guards in the great hall. Stomach rolling knees shifted on her pillow, eyes on Rope wrapped around her wrists then the floor as the sound of bone breaking against stone echoed around them.

Stealing glance out of the corner of her eye to the Queen, she wondered what the royal was thinking. The woman was incredibly difficult to read most of the time. She had caught rare glimpses of feelings behind violent eyes in their more private discussions between a lingering kiss or touch. Still those were rare. Regina appeared impassive and thoroughly unimpressed with the situation. Regal posture, taking in the scene, red mouth a straight line, but those dark eyes were thirsty and wide blown iris’ sucked in the controlled chaos as life left the pound of flesh bleeding out on a mat at the base of the dais.

Emma’s attention returned to the still form of the prisoner and she shivered when what could only be described as an insatiable, but content sigh leaving full lips. Gasping suddenly when those shameless lips were on hers, Emma leaned into them unconsciously, left famished in their wake. Dark kiss a tease at best, a promise at worst. Chin forced upwards, green eyes dropped to the red source of the burn in her sex. This paradox was rocking her soul. She, Emma Swan, in the farthest corner of her mind and groin desired this force, the darkest parts of humanity prettily masked in lace and leather, not to mention a killer corset and that cleavage… Curls shook the thought away as guilt crept in. This… woman was not her fiancé, but she was so…

Regina studied the range of emotions on the beautiful composition of skin before her. Large intelligent, suspicious green eyes hid mischief and were currently full of contradictory conflict. A fine nose drew the eye to a cupids bow nestled above parted pink lips that begged to be licked. Long neck exposed, but framed by blonde curling wisps that had escaped a braided crown. Simple, but sheer white shift kept court on lookers from the sweet curves underneath. Those and the silky jewel within belonged to her and she longed to properly wear it, to slide her fingers around that pink pearl.

Senses on overdrive, nostrils flared as the scent of blood wafted by.

Blood. The sensuality, scarlet essence of life always made her hunger and long for the intimacy of joining a body she controlled with her own. It was a purely physical plane to exist in, like riding a wild untamed horse to exhaustion; a satisfying challenge. Sex with women always had been for her and the fairer skin, soft and supple, was a fine canvas to fuck with. The girl blushed and trembled under her kiss, touch, just a glance… Toy the edge, tease the senses, and taste the wanting shell she would, but the girl was not yet ripe for plucking. The fruit had to be willing for the teeth that would tear into the flesh, marking to own. Even so, she planned to nibble today. Dismissing court she gave her full attention back to the blonde as the room emptied.

“You’re shaking. Such a pretty little white bud.” Regina coyly ran her finger along a pale jaw. “Time for sustenance and perhaps a late dinner after.”

Blonde brows knitted. “Isn’t that the same thing Majesty?” A black flash of fur caught her eye from the other side of the throne.

The royal stood, beckoning a follow. “You could say that. How do you feel about being my appetizer?” A question not asked for courtesy.

Emma started to trail alongside Red, but feet froze. Heeled boots and paws did not. Fingers snapping forced her to keep moving, quickening to where the Queen had paused between the doors of the hall. A quick hand came to slap, but stilled just before impact a breath shy above skin. Emma winced readily as she watched the brief flash of hard reined temper drawn back. That hand tapped roughly twice instead, sting fading within a moment. Red whined, a soft chide to pay attention.

Reminding. “I wait for no one.”

Turning sharply, Regina continued walking back towards her chamber; glad the blonde heeded her words as attentive feet followed exactly as instructed. Before the door she sent a silent command to the wolf to depart. Red cocked a head in question, but obeyed quickly. The moment the door of her chamber closed in privacy she forced the girl up against the cold rock wall belly first.

Wind knocked out of her, Emma tried not to struggle against the strong hand on the back of her neck as sharp nails clawed through the fabric of the shift, effective shredding it. Shift fell away exposing the dipped cleft of a back above firm high buttocks. She stayed in position as those hands left and boots moved to the far side of the room. Listening as a drawer was opened, something rustled as magic static in air much too warm made the hair on her arms stand up on end.

“Come here.”

Command laced with a warning to be prompt. Emma turned, kneeling to crawl as she’d been taught and moved quickly, but with enough attention to grace as not to provoke that temper. Something was riding the Queen and she wasn’t sure what had caused it or if it was even something she should fear. It was, however, the unknown and that scared her. She’d experienced a few sides of temper, but never this. Knees came to rest at the feet, now bare, of the sovereign. Without the leather to hide such dainty toes, Emma could imagine for a moment she was home in the mansion, playing one of their games behind closed doors. Her chin was caught and lifted slowly, a green trail up bare toned legs to black silk beginning at the knee, past a tiny waist and hiding the flesh up to the base of a throat. Long black hair unbound rippled like lake water after a storm down over a shoulder. Highlights catching the light of flames appeared ebony blue. The Queen’s face was free of makeup and Emma wondered at the impossibility of the natural crimson stain on parted lips.

“Is that how you looked at her?”

Emma snapped to attention, back ridged at the lusty heat of that midnight voice. Licking lips and cursing in mind at what she must have looked like when she lost awareness on the journey to the speaking mouth. In this moment she couldn’t tell the difference save that cascade of hair.

“Please Majesty…”

Dark eyes narrowed, fingers pinching cheeks. “Answer me.”

A tear fell as a whisper left. “Yes your Majesty.”

“There is fear of wanting behind your answer and I care not for it.” A hand withdrew and settled in the bed of a lap. “I will not take you entirely tonight; though I suspect part of you would very much savor that experience.” Assessing green she found that truth trying to hide and smiled. “I am patient and will have all of you in due time.”

Inhaling sharply, Emma fought to ground her spinning thoughts. Had she read the Queen wrong and was she relieved or disappointed? She shouldn’t want truth in those words, but her body did. It had been a month and a half of a daily grind down of her emotions, thoughts, and obedience. Mind fuck after mind fuck had been thrown her way and she was thoroughly disarmed in a way she had never been before. Want and need battled. “What of now? You said I was your appetizer Majesty…You shredded my dress, the kiss… I thought…”

“I will certainly play with you my girl. Your body betrays your desire for me most beautifully.” Leaning forward, a finger hovered an inch above a nest of blonde curls at the apex of thighs. “Part your legs.” When hesitation answered eyes flashed, simmering as she was slowly heeded. Pulling back, Regina settled into the winged chair and simply watched the struggle on that pale face from obeying.

Emma blushed furiously as she was exposed in more ways than one to those watching eyes. Staring a hole in the floor she closed hers when the air stirred from movement highlighted the moisture against the inside of her right thigh. She imagined it glistening against the shadows of crackling flames from the fire behind her, and the one beginning within her belly. Hating that she wanted the Queen to touch her; to take a ride on those royal fingers into the horizon of cosmic ecstasy. She needed intimacy, touch, and some kind of affection from those hands so much like her fiancés. Missing Regina, the rich closeness of their love and trust, fiercely.

Another tear fell and before it crested her cheek bone it found a home on a hot tongue, then red lips coming together to taste, her mouth was then possessed rather roughly. Just as abrupt as dark hair tickled her cheek it pulled away, back and back between the wings of a chair. She was merely observed yet again. Sensing magic stirring, Emma felt her core warming as seduction tendrils wisp through the air. Her Regina would sometimes use similar magic to heighten the experience of sex and every time Emma nearly blacked out from the intensity it often brought on.

“Your eyes taste of such a sweet, yet tangy nature.” Amused and feeling evil the Queen nodded south. “I wonder what your lips taste like.”

Emma clenched her jaw to keep from speaking, but not before her thoughts got away. “Spice and honey. She always said…” Shaking her head almost violently at how well the Queen had scaled her walls. Then remembering. “Majesty.” When no response came she shifted nervously. Silence too loud for comfort.

Fingers snapping made her jump and Rope grew in length from her bound wrists and shot up overhead, securing to a ring and chain that yanked her up onto her toes, and then lowered just enough to allow the soles of her feet to find the floor. Stung naked and sudden, she tried to gain some slack, only to be pulled up tighter; white cord ready to be strummed in tune.

“Majesty what have I done to displease you?” Worried for her skin as heart hammered against ribs. A deep and sensual chuckle bloomed from behind.

Regina stood and slowly circled her prey. “Quite the opposite girl. You have pleased me the last few days with your efforts. This will be but a glimpse of the rewards you may earn in the future.” She feathered fingers down between a valley of breasts, stopping just below a navel. Turning a single finger over a pointed nail raked the opposite grain up to the underside of a chin. Long welt forced a grunt accompanied by hints of a moan divulging the bliss found within pain. Beads of blood littered the trail of twisting curves and longing for satiation, the Queen licked the hot path up to a pink mouth.

Seduction magic electrified her senses and Emma became completely lost in the tantalizing pleasure the wet muscle caused. The Queen feasted on trail after trail of red speckles drawn from sharp nails on her torso. Skin opening under a cold stroke and closing after the chasing heat. The royal was in no hurry to move on to the next course, Emma was certain in the brief moment of composure she managed to grasp between a lick. She writhed as each individual rib was defined by horizontal streaks. Then her dancing legs were given the same lazy, arrogant attention. Sweet teeth nipped filling the cavity behind a knee and she gasped as they scrapped up to her ass and sank in.

Multiple sets of phantom hands began ghosting over alabaster skin, drawing gooseflesh to rise in summit. Nipples were teased and pinched, breasts fondled as the back of a hand, real or not she couldn’t tell, brushed against her quivering nub. Hips tried to swing into the attention and her ass was slapped for the effort. As many hands explored her body everywhere but where she needed it most, hot breath blew behind her ear and another moan escaped as Emma was baited toward a climax she wasn’t sure she would be allowed to have.

“Jesus fuck!” Toenails scraped stone, body writhing like a fish on a hook. “Please Majesty!”

Regina rounded the girl, letting magical hands build the blaze in the dripping sex. “I am not even touching you right now.” Resting mere inches from the girl’s face. “Just imagine when I do.”

Breath sputtering on edge. Just one real touch and she would crest. “Please… I neeed…”

Overlooking her lack of title as she leaned in a bit closer. “What dear girl? Tell your Queen.”

“T-touch me Majesty.” Beginning to cry with conflicted ache. Hating her weakness and desiring release.

“Ask me properly and I may consider your request.”

Throat constricting as nipples grew painfully erect from a phantom hand. “Please your Majesty, w-will you touch me?” After a lifetime a single fingertip answered, flicking her swollen pearl and she exploded. Yelping as a throbbing tremor injected her core with an inferno of rapture so commanding Emma bit her inner cheeks to blood. Metallic copper filled her mouth to keep from screaming Regina’s name; sure the mood of the spell would be broken and a punishing hand would follow.

Going limp in the chains she shuddered as smaller ripples of magical lips sucked at pulse points in her wrists and neck, easing her down from the high surf she’d been riding. She was barely aware of a real hand at dip of her waist as another swiped two fingers against the inside of a coated thigh. Green cracked open wanting to cry again as the Queen sampled her juices. She couldn’t hide her satisfaction found within the tangle of cruel affections given.

“She’s right.” Letting the slick milky fluid mingle with her taste buds as one would sample a fine wine. “Spice and honey with traces of long suffering.” Finally satiated for the moment as green eyes fluttered with the last spark of warmth she sent singing through the blonde’s veins. Regina gestured casually and the girl was gently brought down in a heap at her feet. Rope slithered from wrists to an ankle, binding the Savior to a metal ring in the floor.

Emma struggled to catch her breath, caught within the beats of aching heart, between her legs, and the protest in her mind; a scrambled triad of lust, pain, and confusion. _‘What the actual fuck just happened?’_ Thoughts bantered against one another. _‘She’s not Regina you idiot… but she felt like her.’_ Need whispered back. _‘She could be…’_ Metal sliding against carpet forced eyes open as a bowl of grapes, thick crusty bread with cubes of soft cheese and meat was placed within sight. Second course right on time announced with a rumble of her stomach.

Suddenly starving Emma forced her body into position, head back to rest against the Queen, eyes looking down her nose as a cool chaste kiss brushed her forehead and the command was given to eat. She nearly lost her balance as the warm body left and she struggled to understand the cold care that returned to fill the room. Stealing a glance at the woman beginning to pick from platters of various rich foods as one would nonchalantly thumb through a dull magazine in a nail salon. Such polar extremes to the focused hands and mouth she’d been consumed by not minutes ago.

“Staring will only earn you attention you do not want from me.” Eyes snapped back, barely missing the glimmer in green that found a bowl of food.

“My apologies Majesty.”

“Oh, I highly doubt your sincerity dear girl.” Leaning heavily on the arm of a chair. “But you’ve entertained me enough at present to earn the grace of a single reprieve.”

Emma dipped forward and began to eat to give her wanting mouth something to do. Also, to distract from the other hunger grinding her insides to dust. Halfway through she sat up, wiping her mouth on the napkin that had been laid beside her bowl as she tried to make sense of what she’d experienced. The Dark Queen had expertly tapped into a well of emotions she didn’t understand, made her feel things she’d only even felt under the attention of her fiancé. In a moment of blind pleasure she had given herself over to the pure plane of physicality under the guise of comfort that paralleled the same woman.

Had she betrayed the woman she loved, or embraced a side of the same one trapped in a realm far away from home? She loved Regina, all sides of her or so she had claimed sitting at the same bare feet on stone that had been on the cream carpet of their shared bedroom in Storybrooke. So who was who and had she even questioned that notion as teeth claimed her or phantom magic sang her to orgasm?

Regina nibbled on the skin of a grape, expertly peeling it from the sweet pit within the velvet folds of her mouth. The girl was loud in the hum of silence. “Do quiet your thoughts or I will gladly assist you in doing so before I retire.”

She was in no mood to answer the questions bubbling in that head tonight. Her own ratio of desire quenched and no longer brimming to spill over. Possessing as she had was intensely satisfying and she took great satisfaction in the itch the blonde squirmed to scratch, but knew the girl wouldn’t dare admit yet. Her heart felt no emotional attachment to the girl, but her body was beginning to yearn for a connection.

Eyes drifted to the dying flames as she summoned another log to bed the coals. Sparks shot skyward as she took in the flickers of gold dancing on black edged embers. Perhaps there was some attachment. Fond was not the right word, nor was like. Maybe care of some sort… no, not quite right. She felt…

“Majesty?”

Torn from her wandering, Regina sneered at the interruption, but the weary need in those downcast eyes begged her for one soft moment. “Speak.”

Pale fingers brushed over a frizzy braid, loosening the end to wave about her shoulders. “Please Majesty… like before?” Craving a simple touch, something recognizable and she could clearly define.

Considering the request, Regina wondered at the why behind it and demanded to know. “Whatever for? Sleep will beg the chore again in the morning.”

Shrinking from the chilled tone, but knees inched forward. “It reminds me of home your Majesty.” Swallowing thickly. “She loved to brush it—” Nearly choking as a hand shot for her throat, squeezing, though not enough to cut off her air supply. a sharp warning to carefully craft her next words. “I-I only—”

“Do not mistake my reward earlier for affection. I feel nothing...”

Her words burned the inside of her mouth and she yanked her hand back, gripping the silk covering her body instead. She’d almost added ‘for you’ but the uncertain truth of that twisted her stomach. They sat in the unsaid for a long time before the girl crawled slowly over, turning to settle a pink streaked back just shy of touching her legs. A gold curtain further unraveled by pale hands, inviting attention, if not affection or kindness. Wanting to kick the surly girl away, but not Regina ignored instead. She continued to pick at her meal over the course of an hour as blonde locks eventually came to rest against her knees, an apology for over stepping. Tsking at the tangled strands she summoned a boar bristled brush and took up the task of taming the wild mane. Angry annoyance channeled into regal fingers eventually began weaving a complicated four strand plait tight against the crown.

Emma winced at the tugging from the corner her eyes, face getting an instant lift as skin stretched. Still grateful for the touch of something she could understand, even if it was veiled with indifference. Eyes smarted as she recalled the Queen’s cut throat words that in another life uttered from those lips would have made her rip out her broken heart. She knew what had been unsaid and blinked back the hurt over it. Then, slowly relaxed in realization that they had, in fact, gone unsaid. That had to mean something. Progress maybe. Perhaps the start of a connection. A tapping on her shoulder and the tail of a bound braid tossed over the other required her attention.

“Go to bed.”

Dismissed, Emma tried to keep tears at bay long enough to hide her face in the warmth of her nest. They spilled, splashing on the hard floor as she crawled where bid. Ignored, or seemingly so as she curled up with her back to the Queen, eyes on the flames. Sleep a merciful master, came quickly, easing her mind into quiet depths amongst the tempest in her heart.

Regina waved away the remains of her meal and the blonde’s unfinished bowl. That was the first meal the girl hadn’t entirely consumed. The fact that she even noticed had a brow rising in question. Mumbling from by the hearth drew her interest as did the shifting form under furs as a pale wet face came into view. Those tears had tasted divine and before she gave it too much thought she stood, making way over to the sleeping form. A finger caught a hint of damp from a cheek and brought it up to sample. Frowning as the familiar taste of loneliness flooded her psyche, swirling the last traces on her the tip of her tongue she caught the subtle flavor of something long lost and alien. Growling before she could help it, feet jumped back as if burned. The girl merely lay there unaffected.

Both bitter and sweet, a sour ambrosia, depending on which end of the spectrum was awakened, Regina had never again thought to have her senses mocked by the complex flavors of love. She summoned a goblet of cider and began sipping as panic flickered in gut. Lifting a foot, she carefully dusted a toe over a bare forearm brows pinching as the blonde moved toward her touch. Unconscious or not, it disturbed her. Finishing cider in one draw, she longed to throw the goblet across the room, but that would make those eyes open. She couldn’t handle what might rest there and for once since becoming trapped here the Queen was frightened. Vanishing the glass instead she sought the glided mirror propped up to stand in the corner of the chamber and strode to it with purpose. Gripping the frame painfully as knuckles screamed Regina looked through herself willing an answer to her fear within.

Black eyes, hers, but not glared back. Concealed shadows tucked deep in the glass blurred and another woman entirely looked back at her. Brows pinched as she leaned closer, hands left the frame to run through loose hair, hers ending at a trim waist, but the mirrored version was blunt at the neck. Reflected clothes simple grey silk pajamas, but the knowing red smile the mirrored self hinted at yanked to open the iron cage in her chest.

Regina blinked and only the Dark Queen stared back. As the ruler of the entire realm she could do anything she wanted to anyone at anytime without repercussion. One word or gesture could destroy lives, a village, or bring quaking masses to their knees. Everything was at her fingertips for the taking. All but one… Yet it still lingered on her palate; a taunt of hope from the salt of the Savior.

“Regina…” Murmured softly into furs.

Neck snapping right as something so foreign it was proverbial squeezed the flesh lining the iron in her chest. Her name didn’t belong on that mouth. _‘Mine.’_ Regina corrected in mind. _‘My name.’_ Lips silently mouthed a different name in return, one she’d stripped from the girl and she shook her head to clear it from her thoughts. Speaking it would be a betrayal of self and an attachment she couldn’t afford… Could she? The mind numbing paradox was haunting.

“Gina…” A cropped plea.

Restless and irritated the Queen prowled, eventually coming to stand right where she had fled before. Crouching with a stiff spine, but a considering gaze she allowed her hand to linger on a blonde head. The girl, ever hungry, leaned into her, name once again being called from the depths of dreams. In a moment of weakness or maybe strength Regina let a few words pass through the listening brown eyed specter from the mirror poignant in the corner of her mind.

“Perhaps once upon a time, my girl, I was…”

:::::::::::

A/N - Please let me know your thoughts, if you'd like. Thank you!


	9. Parallel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N -Heavy. See disclaimer tags and note my rating. If you are sensitive to animals this will pull at your heart, but justice within. Flashback to Storybrooke included.

:::::::::::  
**Parallel**  
:::::::::::

Emma peered out of the scarlet velvet curtain of the royal coach as it bobbed along the Queen’s road, a winding snake that wrapped in a figure eight around the entire Kingdom. At the cross point in the middle she leaned left heavily at the sharp turn as the coach was directed to head back to the castle. Squinting through the streak of sunlight an iris within a green meadow shrunk, much like her shoulders when the curtain was magical yanked shut. Jerking back against the rebuke into the seat she returned to looking at her hands to avoid the dark woman’s irritated glare.

Upon waking this morning after the blood feast, Emma’s joints screamed in pain from straining in orgasm upon the hook. The capillaries around the skin of her eyes had burst from squeezing so tight as wave after wave of pleasure had consumed her. Despite their connection last night, the Queen was off, patience for nothing was granted, least of all attempts at conversation. She’d been reprimanded twice by a ringed hand slapping her ass and nipped by Red’s teeth in the same place much to her embarrassment before lunch was over. Red had suggested fresh air to help clear the Queen’s head and Emma was suddenly clothed and bound to accompany them on the ride.

Meant to be a distraction for the royal, Emma wondered over what. Determined to avoid another reproach she mused over the ill temper sharing space in the shadows of the black box on wheels, trying to figure out what was pricking the Queen. Needing something supple in wake of quandary, memories of Storybrooke, took over. Henry’s sweet laugh as he chased paws on wood floors, the smell of Regina’s cooking, her singing in the shower, their bed… skin on skin tangled in sheets on a Saturday morning… Red lips sucking her over the edge—

“Must you think so loudly?” Snapping, Regina skimmed the top of a stack of parchments using the monocle attached to a gold chain pinned to her purple corset.

Unable to help it, Emma stole a glance at the ridged woman wrapped in a black leather cloak, eyes darting to the floor before ebony ones found her out. “I’m sorry Majesty.”

“Humph.” Hand going to stroke the furry head in her lap. She set the stack of papers aside, dropping the monocle as Red’s voice come through the wall of her psyche.

 _‘My Queen, she misses her home.’_ Tongue licked a black nose as yellow eyes soaked in the somber stare of green.

Sighing Regina sent out a fine strand of magic, catching a taste of the blonde’s brewing emotions. Despair, flickers of joy and ache meshed in mind. _‘Her happiness is not my concern.’_

_‘She is yours… Is pack. Scents match your own.’_

_‘Regardless her feelings are not of consequence.’_ Nails paused behind furry ears.

Tail thumped twice. _‘They could be one day my Queen.’_

No, but maybe... Regina shook off the suggestion and chided. _‘Enough meddling my pet.’_

Red whined and quieted for a moment, then suddenly head popped up tilting sharply, ears forward before a low belly growl came forth. Regina’s movements mirrored the wolf. Heat pooled the floor whipping the attention of those within on edge. Hearing acute and animalistic Regina could almost see the image of sounds invading her ears. Steal scraping to separate flesh from a still breathing pelt. Dying, the petrified roar of the victim’s outrage burned in mind. Smaller thumps. Five counts slapped the earth in protest from the same blade cutting through bone.

“STOP!”

Emma jerked forward as the carriage came to an abrupt halt, wintry sunlight burst into the small space, burning her eyes as Red leapt out door and began howling. “Majesty? What’s wrong?”

“Remain here.” Regina departed, command arctic, following Red.

Emma pulled limbs in when the carriage door slammed, huddling for warmth on the padded seat in tunic and leggings from the cold Queen’s wrath left behind. Frost so bitter it cracked the seams of windows formed on glass and the blonde pulled her cloak tight at the neck as faint puffs of her breath became suspended crystals in space. Shaking with alarm, she used the sleeve of her cloak to wipe the chill from the window so she could see what was happening.

Hand shot to mouth, Rope bound around her wrists brushed twitching lips as bile rose in the violent scene. Green blurred taking in the row of wolves hanging upside down from the limb of tree, paws and tails missing, skinned from flack to neck. A live pup cowered and was noose tied to the trunk of a tree, Red standing guard over it, fur heckled, teeth flashing and ready to tear out the throats of the kneeling men surrounded by the Queen’s guards. The men’s backs were too her and she squinted finally seeing the eyes of the pacing Queen. Ebony ruled where white should be in sockets. Emma had heard the eyes were the windows to the soul and the window into the Queen’s spiraling rage was reptilian. Gaze shredding and damned the breathing dead men. Straining, she barely heard the clipped words from a primal red mouth.

“Butchering whores! Wolves are sacred and not to be hunted…This is **my** land, **my** subjects!”

Green watched as a ringed hand hovered over one man’s head. He shook as a ripple of magic possessed him and got to his feet, pulling the knife at his hip from a sheath, raising it in point to the Queen who took a step back. Emma burst through the carriage door, lunging for the man who appeared to be ready to strike the Queen.

“Look out!” She was frozen mid leap by a royal hand, static in air on pause two feet above the earth. Those fury filled eyes swept over her with no detection, too deep in the pit of anger and lungs squeezed as breath was slowly strangled to a halt. One word escaped before a pale throat closed. “Maj-esty?”

Recognition slow, flickering in midnight irises as a candle would in a harsh draft, Regina released the blonde to fall in a heap at the base of the carriage steps, rooting the girl in place with magic. Her attention returned to the quivering men, choking on their own spit as they watched the standing hunter fight the spelled movement forcing his hand. He began screaming as he drew the very blade used on the wolves, still crusted with their blood, against his own flesh starting at the wrist. Agonizing and lazy slow, slow the stroke up to an elbow peeled the finest layer of epidermis exposing raw nerve underneath. Sliding and slipping, slipping and sliding up, up to a shoulder. Skin coiled on the hilt of the knife as the butcher became carved meat. Screams, sent crows scattering from trees, beaks crooning approval of the Queen’s justice. And it began again at the wrist, over and over until the entire limb was stripped.

Emma, horrified could not look away, but more so still at the weeping flesh hanging from the tree. She locked eyes on the wolf pup pining at the pile of skinned pelts on the ground as the Queen moved over to repeat the same punishment on the remaining two men, spelling each as the hunters became the prey until they dropped, just as flaccid as the ones they stole life from. Losing her lunch in the ice crusted field as the smell wafted back from a strong wind Emma retched until nothing more could come up.

Feeling her feet released from the prison of earth, she moved slowly toward Red, catching wide blown golden eyes and trying to speak to the wolf on a mental thread, but failing. Concerned green spoke volumes. Able to approach, Emma worked the tight knot off the tied pup’s neck best as her own bound hands would allow, little bundle of brown and blonde fur jumped into the folds of her cloak to hide. Scrambling back with the squirmy bundle, she got back into the carriage. The pup nested into her stomach, ear resting against her heart. Gently she fingered the rope burn at the collar where fur should be. Tears falling, Emma mournfully wondered which hanging wolf was the pup’s mother. She barely caught the Queen’s voice, same steal spike, but with less edge speaking to the guards.

“Burn the hunters, except him.” Finger pointed to the last man twitching. “Put him on a pike to display and post his crime. Take their knives and return them to their families so they know of their fate.” Turning back to the five lifeless souls hanging in tree, all skinned alive in front of the pup babe. “Cut them down with great care, bury them whole as they should be and mark the grave with my crest.”

Red howled in approval and dipped her nose in gratitude, front paws stretched out in a low bow, flank high. She rose, head coming to rest under the Queen’s assuring palm as the guards obeyed orders. Two dug ripping through the icy crust with conjured shovels while two began to lower the victims down. Another guard piled the men for burning while one drug the remaining hunter sentenced to a pike behind a horse up the road. A quiet hour passed as each wolf was wrapped back in its coat, laid to rest with missing appendages where they should be under the Queen’s critical eye. Finally when the last stone was placed to mark the grave and a black banner was left sticking up in the middle of the pile, waving in salute overhead, Regina went back to the carriage. Red tucked into the silk skirts of the royal on the seat opposite the sleeping pup and troubled blonde.

As the gilded coach rolled along, Regina found her calm in the resting brown pup. A little black nose twitched in protected dreams cradled in pale hands, slack jaw allowed a pink bud to peek from a snout. Eyes moved up to the motionless girl staring unblinking out the window. Meadow green too full knocked against the iron cage in her chest. The girl’s need drew the only response she knew how to give.

“You should have stayed in the carriage.” Chilly laced with a hint of warm understanding.

“I should have Majesty.” Agreeing as a palm began to stroke the fur in her lap. “I thought the man was going to hurt…” Ducking chin to chest as words became lost in the waking wolf pup licking her hand. Old feelings resurfacing from a life lived ages ago. Eyes glassed as the tip of a gloved finger lifted her chin.

“Why is there ache in your eyes?” Curious only of the change in the girl.

“This just reminded me of a time in my past I’d rather forget your Majesty.” The glove left.

Another psychic probe dug at blonde roots. “Someone hurt you when you were young, like the pup. Many I gather from the waves crashing in that head of yours.”

“I’d rather not go there right now.” Swallowing grit. “Please Majesty.”

“One day soon girl I wish to… understand.” Red lips changed inquires. “What is her name?”

Emma’s brows scrunched in confusion.

“She has claimed you as her own. Ask her for a name.”

“How your Majesty?” Hearing Red in her brain was challenging enough. Whenever she’d tried to initiate mental conversation back it felt like hitting a glass door.

“Reach beyond your human trappings, a leap over the fence if you will. Envision the sound of your voice within her mind and reach.”

The text book summary sounded easy and Emma tried, concentrating. Startling, eyes grew as a sleepy youthful rhythm broke into her head. Fragments pushed through the glass in jumbled pieces. _‘Saved me… No… name.’_

“She says she doesn’t have one.” Emma stroked a wet nose thoughtfully taking in the unique coloring. The pup was a dusty brown from snout to tail, lightening to a silvery blonde at the paws almost like... Heart pinching. “I think I’ll call her Mia your Majesty.”

Dark brow rose. “Strange. There is a story there I’m sure, but I care not to hear it now. Another time.” Gaze returned to the pup as hands stroked Red, calming her pet from the events of the day.

“Yes Majesty.” Flipping the pup on her back the little one lay sprawled content getting a belly rub. Déjà vu stilled her hand. Thoughts drifted back to another life, a realm away and she hoped not much further…

::::::: **Past Storybrooke Dream-scape** :::::::

_Hand in hand they left the diner New Years Eve under the winking stars and sparkling street lights, heels and boots in harmony as frosty air turned grinning cheeks pink. Emma laughed at Regina’s perfect imitation of Ruby telling Leroy off for stealing a kiss from the waitress under the mistletoe. The Mayor’s voice, sweetly high with happiness was liquid velvet, infectious and warm in all the right places and in one Emma wanted to stroke to climax right in the street, onlookers passing be damned._

_Sheriff paused under the Christmas banner across Main Street pulling her brunette fiancé close under the watchful eye of a full moon. “Madam Mayor will you do me the honor of a New Year kiss?”_

_“Very corny Miss Swan.”_

_“Actually I’m horny for you.” Blonde brows wiggled suggestively, trying to keep a straight face as a gloved hand tenderly cupped her cheek._

_“Such a naughty girl and here I thought you were going to be on your best behavior tonight.”_

_Shivering under lingering whisky orbs and the touch of leather. “Your naughty girl.”_

_“Yes, mine.” Touching foreheads, she licked Emma’s lower lip, tugging gently with front teeth before releasing. “When we get home I want you in nothing but your birthday suit kneeling at the foot of our bed. I plan on starting the year off right with a celebratory fuck to remind you of your place dear.”_

_“Will there be cake too?” Core clenching at the visual, she thanked whatever god that liked her that their kid was spending the night with her parents. Playtime was rare within their full schedules of keeping the town safe from fairy tale disasters and modern ones._

_“For dessert after I’ve had you as my main course.” Drawing back as the blonde searched blindly for her mouth. Tapping a pale nose. “If… you are a very good girl for me.”_

_Whining at the lack lips. “I’m always good for you.”_

_Smirking at that half truth. “We’ll see my love.” Playfully swatting the blonde’s ass as they continued to stroll along toward home._

_As they crossed the street past an ally way by the bank Emma heard rustling coming from behind the dumpster. Freezing, hand pushed the Mayor behind her as she stepped forward. Leather glove captured her wrist, stilling her boots from advancing. She pointed ahead and jumped when a black bag rolled into the middle of the gravel road. A soft whimper came from the plastic prison as brown fur poked through a hole in the side. Before she could move Regina rushed past, kneeling to tear open the bag to reveal a squirming puppy with the clearest watery blue eyes Emma had ever seen._

_“Gina, what… Oh my God!” Emma used her cell phone as a flashlight, taking in the gash across the dog’s right cheek and the torn tip of an ear as she approached. The white cashmere scarf she’d gifted the Mayor the week before left a regal neck and was carefully wrapped around the shaking pup, black nose nuzzled in the safe scent of apple and caramel. “We need to get it to the clinic.”_

_“Her. Emma, it’s a holiday, nothing is open.” Standing with the fur baby in arms. “She’s coming home with us for tonight. Poof us please?”_

_White smoke engulfed them to the safety and warmth of the mansion. Emma followed the brunette’s clipped heels into the downstairs bathroom. In the bright light, she got a better look at the wounds on the puppy as Regina removed the scarf. Wondering aloud. “Is anything infected?”_

_Crouching on the tile, the Mayor summoned the first aid kit and a clean towel. “I don’t think so. Come hold her so I can get her cleaned up.” Opening the kit as Emma sat cross legged on the floor she wet a cloth and began to dab the blood from fur._

_As Regina worked Emma watched pensive over the turn in their evening. Stroking the soft soul in the crook of her arm she took a ride down an old road in mind. The past sneaked up, as it always did, when she least expected it. This sweet baby had been thrown away, trashed, left for dead hidden away to suffocate in darkness. Before she knew why or could stop the moist heat from escaping her eyes, she sniffed back tears wanting to fall._

_Shaking. “Who c-could just leave her like that Gina?”_

_Pausing at the cracked question, Regina took a pale hand and squeezed. “Whomever it was won’t be long for this world. There are cameras on the street lights in that area. We can pull the footage and we will find out who did this. I promise.” Running her thumb in slow, slow circles on the back of a hand. Sensing a deeper wound exposed in the room then the ones she was between cleaning. “Is that the only reason for your tears sweetheart?”_

_Emma swiped salt from cheeks. “I don’t know…”_

_Letting that weighted answer sit, Regina went back to cleaning up the pup. Between the two of them they got the dog bathed, dried, brushed and fed over the course of an hour. Leaning against the counter in the heart of their home they watched a small tongue lap water and inhale meat. Skinny, but not yet on the side of malnourished the pup paused over bowls to look up at them as if in gratitude._

_“Do you think they can understand us?” Emma pondered as arms pulled her into a side hug._

_Kissing a temple. “I think they know more than we give them credit for and feel just as deeply as we do, maybe even more so. Why do you ask?”_

_Murmuring into dark hair as she broke away from the intensity of blue. “I want her to know that she’s not disposable, that her life is worth more than what she was thrown into.”_

_Regina watched the pup for both of them in quiet understanding of what else went unsaid._

_A few minutes later Emma excused herself to the privacy of a hot shower after the puppy started in on a second helping of shredded chicken. Upstairs in the master en suite the Sheriff stripped off the red leather, sweater and skinny jeans with boots. Shedding armor down to the naked space of just Emma. There behind a frosted glass door she let her tears off the leash to fall freely. Breasts heaved, nipples chilled against white tile as water beat her back from the five heads arranged on the walls. Memories forgotten in mind, but not in heart stole her from the present once again._

_Resting a forehead against the wall she wept for the little girl she used to be. One that still screamed inside on nights filled with the wails of thunder and sought comfort in the Mayor’s embrace. For the one that kicked at the shins of a system that was supposed to protect her and raged against the people who damned her to it. The child who was called unlovable, damaged, and broken yearned to belong to someone who meant home._

_She’d given these demons over, sorted and worked through them within the four walls of a cricket’s office. Also, while bound to the posts of their bed as the tails of a flogger beat her back pushed welling emotions out of mouth driven by the loving hand of her soon to be wife. Regina understood her pain. The way it ate away her insides until she fractured and needed the mirror of another kind of pain filled glue from a firm hand to mend what tore. Rare it was, but often enough to require consistent attention._

_Hands that knew how to bend her will in half and then render the secrets of skin to light caressed her back, moving the river of blonde over a shoulder as tan flesh melted into her own. Those same hands settled at her hips, encircling in support as silent cries turned into noisy sobs._

_“Gi-na…”_

_“Right here my love.” Regina rested her cheek against a shaking shoulder._

_“It’s too familiar.”_

_Soft. “What is sweetheart?”_

_“She’s just a puppy, she didn’t do anything to anyone and she was thrown out like a piece of trash.” Bitter ache from long ago._

_Clarity as the tears made sense. “She did nothing wrong and she is not trash, she’s perfect and safe now with us.”_

_It had been months since she’d seen Emma triggered. Sometimes they were quiet and deep, a mask Emma could hide behind from someone who did not know her. Regina knew all of her. Every undisclosed thought, every curve, heart both sweet and sour full of memories of a life spent running, longing, and searching for home. Common ground they were both anchored to within the folds of each other._

_Biting her lip, Emma turned around, cradled in round amber light. “We can’t send her away.”_

_“No, we cannot.” Tucking dripping blonde hair behind ears. “And in that case she will need a name.”_

_Brightening with hope. “We can keep her?”_

_“Yes, we can.”_

_A soft bark from behind the glass door stole both pairs of eyes as the puppy rolled in their discarded clothes, tail wagging. Little white teeth chewed on a leather boot. Ears perked up, head cocking adorably as came. Paws ran over, scrapping glass to get to the warmth in the room._

_Emma smiled fondly, wet eyes returning to the chuckling woman in front of her. “I think she wants another bath.” Kissing as she tasted her own tears mixing with the promise on red lips. The decision was simple and pulled forth from a childhood memory of searching for family. “I want to call her Mia. It means wished for...”_

_“Mia she is.”_

:::::::: **Dark Realm Present Day** ::::::::

Emma sighed as she returned to the present. The parallels of both memories stung her mind. Mia there, now here in a way, and how they had found her was like looking into a shattered mirror from the past that had been glued back together by a clumsy hand. Some pieces fit, some missing, others mismatched in layers that still somehow made sense. How was it possible? Could two worlds exist and cross at points on waves of time? There were too many similarities and more everyday in much smaller things; a gesture, the phrasing of something, and a few flashes of brown in dark lashed depths. Yet shadows veiled what should or could be between them here. She didn’t have an answer or even a guess at what was possible, but more and more this land was infringing on her carefully kept memories of home. She lost more of them upon waking each day. They blurred and mixed with new ones in the lumpy soup of conflict. Longing for something real when it may not be; like reading the Ugly Duckling as a child and calling oneself a swan.

Eyes found the Queen’s gloved hands and needing a change asked. “Did you name Red?”

“No.” Regina shifted remembering the first time she’d met her wolf. A bitter sweet date. Temper flared as she tried to quell the heat wanting to pour forth at the memory.

Emma took the short answer as a hint to ask something else before she registered the condensation on the glass, humid temper. The girl in her arms was asleep again and she rested her head against the seat in thought almost reading the royal. Caution asked. “How did you meet Red, Majesty?”

Darkness pulled the Queen inward and she spoke with an air of detachment that was anything but. “I was taking the spring tour of my kingdom a few years ago along this very road and happened upon a hunting party. Red was defending the downed alpha of her pack who had taken an arrow to the throat from young hunter.” Recalling his terror stricken face when he’d realized who she was. “It was the boy’s first kill and accidental. He had been aiming for a deer the wolves were chasing and their paths crossed at the wrong time. I spared him punishment for hunting on my land. He was but a child playing an adult under his father’s direction. His father on the other hand was a fool who tried to go at Red with a spear after my command to halt.”

Emma listened speculating if said fool was worm food now. There was a long pause as Red nuzzled into the Queen’s resting hand prompting a stroke behind the ears. Those same hands that brought her the most intense gratification she had ever known and the most pain, marveling how broad the webbed spectrum of sensations was between the span of fingers.

“She followed my carriage to the castle and asked to remain in my service for saving her life. I asked of a name and she had one, but renamed herself in the moment. Red for remembrance of the blood spilled that day. The alpha was kin, her grandmother.”

Gasping Emma pitched forward, words a punch in the stomach. Sick at the visual of the old woman she knew in Storybrooke who was just as skilled with knitting needles as a crossbow dead with an arrow sticking out of the neck. Stirring as if sensing her distress, the pup opened sleepy blue eyes and whined. Surprised at her own feelings of anger at the injustice Emma hissed. “And you just let her killer go!?”

Mia jumped out of the way. Pack ranking instinct made her tuck tail, ducking into Red as the Queen came within a breath of pink lips. Ringed hand cupped a pale cheek as nails dug into flesh and the other fisted blonde roots pulling to expose a bobbing throat. “Do not question my judgment in such haste girl.” Bitter over the day and done with defiance, lack of title cut a nerve. “I will taste your tears again this evening as you pay for your actions and lack of respect under my hand.” Promise sealed with a kiss firm, tongue deep in a wet blushing cave. Aching as the girl was, Regina offered one assurance in return besides the satisfaction she would feel watching the salt fall later.

Tear, a lead shot, leaked from Emma’s green grief and hunger for more attention from that mouth. Corrupted, she leaned into the Queen’s displeasure, daring to explore the mouth on hers and torn that she was allowed the opportunity, but brief. Pushed away, she felt Mia return to her lap and yellow eyes on her as dark ones returned to the window. The silhouette of the Black Castle crested the hill ahead, curved and red on the horizon in the setting sun as she was sure her ass would be over the chaise upon arrival.

She was wrong and right, but more so precise was the Queen. Emma lay across the chaise, but over a silk lap, stretched naked and tight by Rope at wrists and ankles. The position was much more intimate than she was used to from her indifferent guard and far more vulnerable. Struggling was pointless, but she tried none the less and was rewarded with a hard hand smacking the back of a thigh in the same damn spot. Emma sank her teeth into a fringed pillow to keep from yelling. The royal played her body like a taut drum, ass, calves, thighs, back all a fair target for rhythm of palms; rolling thunder over skin, finger tips cracking lightening with a magical spark. Ass became the focus for the last beats of their song. Two slapped cherries side by side as tears were forced from the bowel of her gut. Emma broke open; cried for what her eyes did not earlier that day, for the pup that lost a mother, for home, and for the inner child yelling for comfort. More for her love, and maybe for one possible. Too familiar were these feelings owning her.

Stoic Queen, stern palm finally stopped to rest, satisfied more than the lesson she’d originally intended was thoroughly absorbed. The girl needed a good cry after the horrors observed that day and she needed an outlet for baring the weight of it; a heady match. Stroking sensitive skin left shivers after her fingers. Loosening Rope with a snap, it coiled around a single dangling ankle freeing other limbs and yet the Savior did not scramble off her lap.

Sobbing, Emma slowly scooted down and turned into the Queen to lay curling around the familiar body, head in lap as her mind could not separate real from not in the moment of seeking comfort. Slowly a ringed hand found her hair, long strokes as a finger caught a tear to taste as promised. Petted and silently soothed, Emma’s cries diminished into confused sniffles.

Regina tasted the perplexity in the longing for solace. While what was left of her heart felt little emotion aside of anger and apathy, through heightened senses she psychologically processed too much. Ability to connect with understanding in a way that wasn’t human, but simply other, gave her an advantage over mortals. While not immune to death or sickness, she channeled a different sensory frequency entirely her own. Red could reach just above the depth she was able to travel inside her mind. With practice the girl may even be able to reach near as deep, but without magic that would be impossible.

A wet cough brought her mind back to the present. Regina drew the warm body of hope filled Savior up into her arms, allowing the beating heart in her lap a moment of closeness in the wake of shadows pushing to close in on them. For the first time a genuine desire for connection beyond the physical plane called the shriveled lump of flesh to beat in tune of another one full and willing to share.

Red lips found a temple and lingered knowingly.

Emma tried to speak, but failed. _‘Don’t leave me.’_ A silent wish for, but a breath shy of home.

::::::::::::::

A/N - I always appreciate feedback.

Until next time...


	10. Wet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Detailed and not appropriate for work... Enjoy! As always see tags.

**::::::::::::::**

**Wet**

**::::::::::::::**

_‘Wake… food… wake… food…’_

Small black wet nose nuzzled a pale bare foot as the owner groaned, squinting in the morning light. Emma cracked an eye, rich purple silk blurred in vision as Mia scrambled over her hip, walking up to a shoulder and rolling to rest in front of her. Slowly the blonde lifted up onto elbows, tucking hair behind her ears, scratching Mia’s growling belly affectionately before it registered where she was.

“About time you woke girl.” Tone deep and cold as the stone surrounding them.

Tensing Emma sat up, taking the silk sheet, not hers with as a cover. She was sprawled at the foot of the enormous bed. Rope secured her ankle to a bedpost. The Queen’s bed. Gaping, she struggled to recall how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was resting her head against the dark Royal’s chest on the chaise. Green came to rest on the bare feet across the room curled up on said chaise. Then to long dark hair loose, black curls tumbling over a bare shoulder.

“My apologies your Majesty.”

Sharp. “Get up. My day of rest is ahead.”

Saturday, one within every fourteen moons the Queen took off from court and duties. Emma had been with her for four of them now and the routine was always the same. Queen would preside over a meal, maybe two during the day for hours at a time, reading or drawing on parchment as she was now wrapped in nothing but a velvet robe. Free of confinements of leather or corsets, bare to Emma, she was at her most beautiful within a day full of silent reflection with no interruptions. They wouldn’t leave the chamber and for that Emma was grateful. After yesterday, she’d had more than enough engagement with reality. Mia whining brought her focus back.

“Please Majesty, what may I feed her?” Dropping the sheet when dark eyes looked over, reproachful.

A bowl of minced meat and water was summoned by the hearth, as was a silver plate with eggs and fruit with a wrist flick. Rope released completely and slithered across the room to the ring in the floor where her bedding was. For the first time Emma was completely unbound. Insecure and feeling more naked than she had upon being stripped of her red leather nearly two months ago the Queen simply returned focus to sketching.

Emma lifted the pup and joined the wolf on the floor, crawling to her meal. As was expected she came to kneel at the feet of the Queen. Red brushed her forehead, brief and impersonal with a nod to eat. After the intimacy of that lap, hand, and mouth last night Emma shivered at the chill in the room, but obeyed. She grinned, much as Red’s black lips did from the foot of the chaise where the great wolf was keeping royal feet warm while Mia attacked the bowl of meat.

As she ate, Emma’s curiosity over what the Queen was drawing nearly got her in trouble as green lingered too long on moving hands holding charcoal. Snapping back to her food when she was caught, feeling ebony pulling her mind apart for a peek inside her thoughts. Swallowing, she moved slowly and deliberately meek to appease the one studying her.

“You dare look at me so freely? Perhaps I have been too soft with you.” Knowingly true and that was riding her hard this morning.

Austere words stones in a blonde stomach. “I was only wondering what you were drawing Majesty. I meant no harm.” Sitting up and wiping her mouth as plate vanished. Red’s whining kept her chin to chest, back straight, palms up on parted knees as she’d been taught a week of moons ago to show respect in moments of temper. Her words and body language seemed a soothing balm on the Royal.

“You wonder what is not your concern and much too loudly for my pleasure.” Chiding, but continuing to move her hand over the page. “Lift your chin and look left.”

Emma obeyed, curls pooling across her chest and shoulders. She stayed immobile for close to an hour before the shakes set in from the odd angle. A curt nod from the Queen allowed her to relax, hands shot to massage her aching neck as the leather book snapped shut and was set aside. Regina stood and with an affectionate scratch for Red, and a pat on the head for her, Emma was beckoned to follow into the bathing room. Going on her knees, Emma paused inside the entry way just behind the Queen as the door closed forcefully behind her, nipping her toes when she didn’t move fast enough.

A large copper tub on a tiered dais sat in the middle of the room, beginning to fill with steaming water from a source Emma couldn’t see. Hundreds of candles, winter earth and ripe apple scented, flickered surrounding the walls of the circular room. Finger nails scraped the floor as a black velvet robe flooded over pale hands, her nose inches from naked regal calves. Emma didn’t dare look up, though she wanted to so desperately. Green caught the silent signal from fingers to follow as Regina moved toward the water. Two joined fingers signaled for her to kneel up next to the metal tub. As the Royal settled in water so hot it was near bubbling Emma leaned away from the small splash from over the rim that hissed on cold stone she knelt on. The moan of pleasure escaping red lips made her sex clench and heart quicken.

Too familiar yet again was this.

The Mayor loved a hot bath, especially after a long day at Town Hall. Emma never able to join, water always too hot for her skin. Shower sex was more their thing. The large en suite of the mansion had a walk in one with several heads that pulsed in different rhythms. Emma loved the contrast of cool tile and warmth as Regina brought her to climax until the beat of water…

“Girl.”

Startled from her memory, Emma turned toward the summons, eyes dilating over the hot milky water cresting two perfect breasts. “Majesty?”

“Fetch the green bottle there.” Eyes closing in full relaxation as tension left tight muscles.

Emma crawled over to the low shelf, careful of her hair and the burning candles on the floor. Sweat began to tickle her hairline as she closed teeth around the skinny neck of the request. Moving back into place she watched in longing as the Queen dipped fully below the water line. Seconds turned into a minute, and Emma shifted over the lack of movement. Two minutes now counting in her head, she was just about the stand up and yank the still body from the water as the third broached when the Queen began to surface slowly. Dark waterfall down a dipped back emerging as drops spilled from a thick fringe of lashes flicked her way. A rising midnight siren without need for song to lure a blonde sailor. Slick red lips hinted a smile as a nod to the green bottle in a slack pink mouth was given.

“Wash my hair.”

Emma moved to the head of the tub, crouching behind, unsure of how to best accomplish her task.

“Not there.” Annoyed that the blonde seemed to need more specific directions. “You’ll make a mess of the floor with the length. Get in.”

Gulping Emma slowly stood. The tub was more than large and deep enough to accommodate both of them. While she craved the closeness, she feared the heat within. Testing the water with a single finger, she hissed, pulling back. Regina simply looked over a shoulder, eyebrow arched. “Too hot. I’ll cook your Majesty.” Not keen on the idea of being a lobster, but not wanting to disobey either.

Tsking Regina waved her hand, coating the sensitive girl in a skin tight waterproof shield. “Cease stalling and do as you are told.”

Buzz tingling on her skin, Emma tried again, sighing at the warmth as she dipped a hand in fully and drew it out, no water clung or dripped. Amused and with a small smile, she stepped into the tub, settling behind the sitting Queen. Gentle, but with firm pressure Emma worked the creamy contents from the bottle into black roots, inviting a white froth to form. Massaging temples and a neck earned a nod of approval from the owner. Getting braver, Emma slowed her hands, combing locks with her fingers before beginning to work the knots at the shoulders. She felt the Queen tense at the change of touch, but no rebuke came so she continued for a few minutes before returning to her original task.

Regina hugged her knees watching the water splash around her, reflection rippling into a blur reminding her of the night the short haired version of herself had appeared in the mirror. Haunting answer to when she had questioned her fear. Those brown eyes staring back had rubbed her raw, teasing in softness that would never be hers. Bitter over the loss of what never was, she stood abruptly, waving a small rain storm overhead to rinse suds from hair away. Turning she’d nearly forgotten the blonde presence at her feet.

             Raising a brow in amusement as pale cheeks flushed pink as her bare sex caught hungry green eyes save one dark trail curving into wet pink folds. Finally warm in more ways than one the Queen summoned a sponge, soaked in bath oil and drew it lazily up one limb and down the valley of her breasts, eyes locked on the girl’s twitching mouth. Squeezing the soapy oil in palm, she tossed the sponge at the knees of the Savior and ran slick hands over her breasts and flat stomach. Down, down to the apex between her thighs and around to the curve of hips, raking nails against skin. Moving back under the rain shower she rinsed thoroughly and stepped out on to the sheep skin rug. Bare feet padded to the dropped velvet robe. Rewrapping and with a brooding command over a shoulder.

             “Wash and come to the bed.”

             Emma’s neck nearly snapped in half as she looked after that glittery voice leaving the room. Had she heard right? Ears ringing as that door closed softly. Far too soft like the skin she wanted to lick.

             Bed. _‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’_

_Her_ bed.

Just realizing that the skin shield had dissolved and she was baking pink in hot water she couldn’t feel in the mind numb that had taken her away, she jumped up. Grabbing the sponge she soaped, and rinsed in under a minute. Stepping out, she looked for something to dry with and finding a folded linen towel on the same shelf as the shampoo she dried off, mostly, squeezing the water from her hair and knelt at the door. Opening it, she began to crawl toward the ebony wood four poster bed. The wolves were gone, she assumed dismissed, knowing Mia was safe with Red. The room was darker than usually in the mid day winter light, drapes drawn against the gray outside.

The Queen rested against a pile of silk pillows over sheets, both regal shoulders bare with collar framed in slipping black of the robe, hair rippling in curls somehow dry. Tan skin glistened in the glow of firelight and oil. Emma licked her lips. She couldn’t help it. Magic swam about her head and golden tresses were woven and bound in an arch over her brow. Not the same as when royal fingers did it, but dry now against the chilly air. Emma approached on the right, kneeling up and hesitant. Caution tugged at her stomach and loins as she climbed up onto the end of the high bed at the farthest point from the sovereign.

Heart pounded as the Queen piercingly watched her movements. Each muscle and sinew was examined, stripped and judged. The second her foot left the floor she knew she’d made a grave mistake, but of what, she was not sure. Careful she had been under mysterious eyes, too careful she feared when they flashed with a feral heat and she was suddenly on her back with a hand securing her bobbing throat to the mattress. Breathing hard against a palm, but still breathing she realized, Emma ceased struggling.

Regina laughed; dangerously deep. “How pretentiously you risk your hide. I told you to come _to_ the bed, not _in_ my bed girl.”

When she had woken this morning, she saw the blonde curled up like a question mark at her feet and while she often enjoyed that visual, the girl was _in_ her bed. She shared her bed with no one, not even Red. Yet somehow the Savior had ended up there and by her hand due to Rope binding a pale ankle to the post. The pup, Mia, had even curled bravely up against her hip. Red knew better, but had stolen sleep on the rug nearby, eyes yellow moons, full and watching in wonder of temperament.

Queen had moved like lightening across the room, fireball in the grate blazing and melting the ice forming under her feet. Turning sharply to watch the girl, a pair of curious blue eyes met hers with a soft whimper. Blonde had shifted in bed, _her_ bed, but did not wake. Pacing in front of the hearth, thoroughly unnerved at her weakness of allowing that closeness. Bed was her safe haven, hers alone and always un-shared. The girl was not at fault clearly in the heady almost drunk state they’d both entered after she’d put the blonde in place last night, but still… Like most predators she was possessive of her den. It had taken a full hour to calm down and not strike out. Temper returned though when green had woken.

Even when she had been a prisoner, no better than an ornament slave to Leo—. She had one place in the castle that had been hers, untouched even by him, one safe place to lay her head and dream of something better; a different hell than the one she lived in. Vowing when she watched the viper’s fangs inject poison into the shriveling King the one night he had tried to get _in_ her bed that she would never share her sacred space with anyone to sleep. Violently she’d killed for lesser crimes and here the girl trembled unknowing of what had been done. Specific she had tried to be in her directions, simply wanting the company of kneeling knees on the rug beside the great bed while she rested.

Controlling was the wrong word for how she felt with the throat stressed for air under her hand. In _her_ bed. Primal, she needed to possess that wet pink mouth with hers. _In_ her bed. The blonde belonged to her in this space the moment that pale foot left stone for silk sheets. Air dripped with the lure of sex, to own the girl’s, both of theirs separated by a thin veil of velvet. Shadows blurred around an internal growl as she spiraled head first into the depths of her psyche. _‘Mine.’_

Emma panted or tried, eyes closed in wait of not provoking the claiming hand to strike. Air crisp nipped at her skin, goose flesh rising as nipples did to points. Inside she was hot to the point of nearly fainting, but the sheet of ice hovering over her body drew attention she didn’t want from dark, now violent wanting eyes. Rose gold diamond heads heaved over lungs and sensitive; she shuddered when the Queen’s velvet robe brushed against them. Green cracked open as lips did with a small moan. Between her lips a red tongue pushed in and took a long leisurely taste before pulling back to nip a bottom lip with perfect white teeth. Swearing somehow that canines had grown sharper to frame that red mouth, Emma licked to taste a drop of welling blood, metallic and warm. Nails dug into her throat almost kind in replacement when the pressure of a palm eased. Mind began to distort at the edges as a midnight voice echoed between her ears, red lips she focused on stone still.

_‘You wished to be in bed with the Queen of Darkness, dear girl. Well here we are_.’ Regina hovered face to face over the Savior. _‘I will take you within an inch of your sanity and still you will beg for more. Your kiss is consent, a courtesy I grant for you know not what you have done.’_ Moving to the shell of an ear, she sucked a lobe and whispered in real time another promise. “Once given you belong to me and I will never ask again.”

Shaking with need Emma couldn’t tear away, couldn’t separate the past from the present. Words a brutal mirror into another life. She belonged to Regina on silk sheets in the mansion and here now on silk sheets that same voice full of cruel gentility cocooned her. Response ingrained from years of riding under tan skin, and now months of apathetic affection, she burned for that mouth. Taking red into hers, damning her very soul to the darkness within.

Regina bit back and Emma moaned as the horizon Queen rose over her, slowly shedding the only layer between them. Green burst as pert breasts and dusty nipples came into view, and tan skin fully kissed hers. Hips were straddled and her arms shot up overhead, bound wrists together by Rope to the bed post. Gasping as her nipples were taken by cold hands, tugged and twisted, writhing as her core filled with want of letting go she tried to grind up against the only heat coming from the Queen. Released, she was slapped for her efforts of gaining any control. Cheek burned under a cool caress that followed. Sharp nails hunted down her sternum to her belly. Trails after red trails elicited torrents of yelps and moans.

Queen forced pale knees apart revealing a pink wink of a blonde curl covered sex. Fingers merely brushing caused the girl to buck. Tsking, Regina rested her knees on open thighs, keeping target still. Little round pearl was slick and finally, her fingers wore it well. Teasing the blonde up, up, up to the crest and pulling away. A strangled whine escaped causing dark eyes to glitter. A palm slapped, wet, over and over the begging pearl, skin red and swelling under hand as the blonde struggled against Rope.

“OW fuck! Maj-easty! Pleassseee….” Emma was not beyond begging and a tear leaked when she realized this was just the beginning. Hands left her abused sex and found her hair, pulling her up, neck exposed as cords strained against sucking lips. Pulse hammered behind her eyes and in temples, near blind as mark after mark bloomed on her skin from lips traveling the curve of throat. “Pleaasse I-I need…”

Regina raked her teeth along a quivering jaw line, laughing as the blonde tried to find her mouth while words pleaded for something more. Pulling back, she knelt up, slowly slinking her sex closer to an open pink cave as a panther would to stalk an unknowing prey. “Enough. Time to put that pretty little mouth to proper use.” Fingers curled around blonde roots in warning. “You have one minute.”

Precious time passing Emma dove up as the Queen invited pleasure overhead. Hands in her hair guiding her mouth to suck the silk folds; lapping in firm circles over and around a swelling peak. Thighs clenched over her ears and Emma inhaled the musk she’d missed; salted caramel, though now mixed with wintry earth. Tongue moved faster in rhythm to the rocking and white stars shimmered behind her eyes as hair was pulled so hard she yelped, but not daring to break the rhythm sending the Queen over the edge. Let go and mouth numb, Emma couldn’t help but grin in satisfaction at the blush blooming on regal skin, until hooded eyes met hers; calculating.

“Just over your limit.” Enjoying the way emeralds widened. “You must be punished for that mishap.”

Easing off the girl Regina flipped the blonde over on stomach revealing a blank sheet of alabaster to play with. Hands kneaded flesh hard, pinching and traveling from shoulders to ass. Drawing back, she slapped one cheek and then the other, eliciting shouts from the owner with each strike. Back and forth palms punished flesh as sweet tears took over the cries in the room. Nails drug over cherry orbs and teeth claimed each one in a bruising bite, breaking skin. Fingers sought a slick pearl and worked the bud around and around as blood pooled in her mouth. Sucking and pulling up, she focused on squirming girl. Hips bucked with unreleased need, trying to grind into her teasing hand.

Just before Emma crested, those fingers drew away leaving her boiled up against the cork of disappointment. Screaming into the sheet Emma buzzed with heat. Denied again she began to weep when she felt something pressing against the inside of her thigh. Thinking the Queen had taken pity on her she pulled her knees up under her belly, ass raising up to meet the hand. No, not hand, something much larger and hard rubbed lazily over her wet slit.

Terrified but wanting. “Majesty? What’s that?” Straining to look over her shoulder, but failing as roots were yanked back into place and her ass slapped yet again.

“That is for _my_ pleasure.” Regina adjusted the leather harness to ride low on her hips, red dyed appendage coated in ready with the girl’s eagerness. Spelled to sense as her own clit, she would feel every quiver and quake of pink walls around the phallus. Grabbing pale hips as an anchor the Queen took the girl in one hard thrust into a wet core.

Crying out at the force, Emma bit her lip, lifting hips back against the Queen as the dark woman found a beat. The member slammed into her, pumping against the spongy nub in an abusive fashion. Room spun before green, down, down, down into the cold abyss of her psyche where magic and pleasure ruled the senses. There, every cell felt full, of Queen, of pain, of liquid heat against the frost of shadows they were cradled in. Fire and ice danced as Regina filled her sex with sparks that flamed her toward climax. Teeth ripping into her shoulder brought her mind out of the haze just enough to register the warning.

“Don’t you dare cum without permission or I will tie you to the bed posts and tease you every night for a month without release.” Hissing as she quickened her pace, pink clenching her center as she thrust hard, hitting cervix over and over again.

Warning to heart, Emma’s teeth found her arm, biting to ground herself from the promise proving true as she was ridden into the deepest part of her mind, through locked doors and webs of hiding, down into the cove only they occupied. Mists and shadows. A pair of brown eyes loomed in the distance and Emma gave herself unto them, begging.

“Majesty!” Fire rising as her core roared. “Oh god please!” Waves of pleasure not her own, washed through her and just as sudden as she was filled she was empty, empty, hallow and gaping sore. Painfully aroused and touch gone. One more thrust and she would have exploded. Beyond cruel, yet tantalizing in taunt. Anger, before she could remember who and what she was talking too. “Fuck you!”

Malevolent. “That’s where you are wrong, girl. It is you that is about to be fucked, as you so eloquently put it.” Curling up alongside the wet blonde, Regina directed a shaking chin over and up with a single fingertip. “We are just beginning.” Red spreading wide as green flooded. “If you are a very good girl I may allow you your pleasure before the day is over.”

 

Green broke in half under her desperation. Worked up and over, inside stinging and again as she had been, exhausted and raw. Still hungry, starving she realized fully who and what she was in bed with. And damn it to the black bowels of hell, she needed the cruel affection in front of her, craved the soft violence of that mouth.

 

A tear fell as red returned to claim in mercy or tease. She wasn’t sure. Emma wasn’t sure of anything but those fingers wrapped around her richest nerve. Before she could speak, speech was stolen from her, a phantom hand covering her mouth and many more exploring every available surface of her skin. Twitching under them Emma tried to roll away, but also into their touch. Quick as there they were gone, again famished for touch she screamed in frustration against the glittery laugh echoing in the cavern of her mind. Kicking out legs in a throng of outburst, she stilled as a crack whipped her head right.

 

“A tantrum has earned you another punishment.”

 

Smarting, Emma was sure capillaries had burst as pink swam in vision, a delicate kiss whispered warmth against the forming mark. Leaning into it, she was suddenly turned onto her back, legs forced open again though she parted eagerly.

 

Close. “You want to cum so desperately do you not my girl?”

 

“Y-yes… Majesty please… please.”

 

Too close. “I will remind you of that when you are begging not to.” Settling between the soaking folds she slowly entered the blonde. Beginning an easy rhythm, hands tweaked nipples as an anchor. She could feel the wave rising within the girl. So soon her game was going to turn interesting.

 

A brow rose.

 

Simple and on demand. “Come girl.”

 

Emma did and so violently she turned scarlet. Straining against the red leather phallus she almost blacked out. Mercy, ever a brutal mistress, didn’t allow that pleasure. Panting as Queen increased the pace. Arching back off the bed, giving into the darkness riding her.

 

“Oh fuck yes! Majesty—yes, yes, YES!” Cresting again with relief Emma slammed back trying to catch her breath. Spent and empty, but the stamina demanded her body to rise yet again. And again, and still more over the next several minutes. Pussy soaked and well used, Emma wept longing for stillness. “Nooooo! No more Majesty. No more. No more please!” Fast and breaking as her mound was spanked with a cool palm.

 

Pain beautiful on the Savior’s face, salt spilling down ruby cheeks furthered fueled the Queen’s hips forward. The blonde ache under her pleaded prettily to cease, begged to stop feeling as another climax rose to peak. A pink mouth screamed as a red one smiled. Pulling out, Savior juices leaked down her thigh as she straddled a set of shoulders, red cock dripping onto a full bottom lip.

 

“Taste.” Edging the tip along the base.

 

Emma tear bright and whimpering took the Queen’s spelled member into her mouth, near gagging at the girth, but tasting to swallow as instructed. Carefully and so completely she licked and sucked cream, gently coaxing the owner to pinnacle. Royal thighs shook against her breasts. A hot shot hit the back of her throat, unsure of that impossibility Emma didn’t question the sweet treat tinkling down into her stomach.

 

_‘Em-ma...’_

 

Green spasm against the gravelly moan between her temples. Did the Queen just… and the Queen rolled off just as quick, nearly knocking her teeth as the member was stripped from her wanting lips. Exhausted, emeralds closed to the shadows trying to pull her mind under into sleep. Fighting the magic beginning to consume she cracked eyes open, looking left toward the Queen huddled up against the head of the bed, unreadable and violently so.

 

“Majesty?”

 

Nothing but swirling midnight abyss where eyes should be.

 

“You s-said my name…” Slipping deeper into darkness, Emma became lost to a spelled sleep.

 

Regina observed as tension left the pale puddle at the foot of her bed. Wicked pulse abused her chest. Another slip, another point of entrance into her once unbreakable psyche left her cracked and vulnerable. Waving a hand, magic cleaned her skin of the Savior’s wet need, too close now for comfort as that name clawed at her insides. Rough sex satiated her need for control and now she longed to push the blonde from her bed, but she couldn’t move in between the calm breaths rising across the way. Numb she felt rub against desire for closeness. Foreign feeling, she simply sat in it for a moment. Scraping at the chamber door drew her gaze. Needing a distraction she granted entrance to two sets of paws trotting over. Door closing in their wake.

 

Mia uninhibited, but cautious came to rest against the fringe of a heavy silk duvet where a royal hand dropped to scratch behind ears briefly. Little paws tried to jump up, but failed. Raising a brow, usually more than enough to still Red in place did nothing but beg Mia’s whine. Scoffing and rolling her eyes the Queen relented, lifting the pup to the bed to sit. Red eased over, wide yellow questions unblinking.

 

Sighing. “If you must.” Granting permission with a single pat to silk, Red leapt up and curled a respectful hand span away from royal hips. Shaking a finger. “But do not get used to it.” Grumbling the Queen slipped beneath the sheets and summoned her sketch book, intent of spending the rest of the afternoon trying to make sense of companionable silence. Opening the leather to where she left off, Regina focused on the sleeping girl as a hand began to sing on parchment a song full of possibility as the blonde’s face took a new shape…

 

The shape of a girl called _Em-ma_.

::::::::::::::

**A/N – Is it hot in here or what?**


	11. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Almost half way, enjoy! Here we see a little more of what is resting below the surface of the Queen.

**::::::::::::::**

**Closer**

**::::::::::::::**

“Fuck.”

 

And she was.

 

So well fucked.

 

Aching and used, Emma was… And she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

 

Leaning toward the full length mirror in the corner of the Queen’s chamber, knees shifted in turn to get a look at her back. Red bottom rested delicately on heels in kneeling. Bruising in the form of an O was speckled purple up her spine and surrounding her neck. Sighing as she turned back to the front, hands traced the print at the base of her throat, smiling softly at the red trails from nails still lining her sternum. Nipples, rosy in the cool morning, peaked.

 

She had woken once again at the foot of the Queen’s bed tethered still by Rope. This had been the first morning she had awoken before Regina and though only a few minutes before, Emma was able to observe the woman in sleep. Almost stone, the darkness claimed Queen even in rest. Those eyes opening brought black life and chaos to the room, feral as they rested on her in waking. Paling, Emma had slowly backed out of the bed, _her_ bed, onto the floor in a full deference kneel. Actions had only earned a growl in return.

 

“I did not tell you to move. Return at once.”

 

And she had and remained immobile as the Queen went about the typical morning routine of washing and dressing. Summoned for breakfast, Emma was finally instructed to furs by the hearth and kissing ritual done, allowed to eat. After, she had asked to look in the mirror, wanting to see the effects of last night and look herself in the eyes. What she had been expecting to see Emma hadn’t known, but knew she needed to register their violent dance from last night fully in her mind and heart.

 

Owned glared back.

 

The Queen had been right. By now Emma knew that would always prove true. No question remained to whom she belonged. Every last skin cell, breath fueling beats of heart, spinning psyche and doubt… holes, most of them—Regina claimed.

 

Physically and mentally chained yet not broken. A promise made weeks ago already on the way to being true, but not yet. Midnight words swirled behind her eyes.

 

_‘I will break you and when I do I will own all of you. However, when you break…’_

Heart and spirit were left and then… Shivering and backing away from the mirror, Emma crawled over to the pensive monarch working at the great black wood desk. Coming to kneel up on the left, Emma sat ridged until a hand rested, heavy on top of loose curls, stroking twice before lingering on the back of a neck. Relaxing into that palm, she settled, but was slowly fraying at the seams. These actions were too easy, a tricky two way mirror into another life. Queen and Mayor were blurring and she wondered if they had ever really been separate.

 

Mayor had talked about ripping the darkness out before, of trashing the Evil stain on a heart. Begging, Emma had been able to convince her not to, thought just barely. Two of Regina were not possible in the Savior’s mind. Always just Regina. Passionate to a fault and comforting, beautiful and dangerous; a cacophony of twins with one red smile. A smile just for her.

 

And Regina was enough.

 

An hour passed around these thoughts and aches words fell away from. She squirmed as ebony eyes finally passed over as quill was set aside. Soul began to bend under the weight of them. She had once described Regina’s eyes as a strong shot of top shelf Whisky; classy sharp and always good for a kicking burn on the way down to a belly before euphoria claimed all rational thought. Heady and sexy, they almost smiled at her now.

 

Licking lips as silence thickened. “Majesty… Last night…” A single finger stroking the back of her neck gave her courage. “I heard you. In my head and… _Felt_ you in my mind.”

 

Nodding. “Yes, you did.”

 

“And you said my name—” Stilling when a nail dragged lazily down her spine, pricking when she paused for breath.

 

Subtle was the flicker of pleasure behind her mask. “Your pretty little mouth earned that brief pleasure.”

 

Neither complimentary nor sarcastic in tone, Emma took that comment as simple fact. Feeling daring. “Majesty, does that mean you'll use—"

 

"No." Hand pulled away to return to a lap. Use of a name was far too intimate of an exchange. It meant she felt something. Even with Red and her horse though named, there was distinct detachment there, but still care. With this girl, hope on knees, it could be her undoing… yet maybe… Twisting shadows killed that thought. “No.” Unyielding.

 

Emma sank. Sighing she studied the carpet fibers. Tightly woven, intricate shades of grey and black with splashes of white threads, almost silver, highlighted the knotted pattern. They were becoming like that, she realized. Intertwined. A single loose thread on the edge begged attention. A finger played, tugging, unraveling the seam. Where did she begin and the Queen end? Twisted thread in hand was not the answer. Question instead knocked loudly from a red mouth, her thoughts away.

 

“What are you thinking?”

 

Startled Emma tried to congeal loose emotions. “Don’t you know already Majesty?”

 

“I could quell my curiosity by pushing through your internal wall, but that would defeat the purpose of asking.” Seeing confusion she elaborated. “I want to actually hear you speak.” Blonde voice, some of the time anyway, a welcome warmth in the cold silence of her world.

 

“I was thinking about last night, how you took me Majesty and…” Sighing as she rested chin, almost hesitant, on a silk covered knee. “How much I liked it.” Lying was pointless when her body betrayed her. Heat was already pooling between her legs. Conditioned, she didn’t try to fight it.

 

Returning a hand to curls before she caught the response to affection, Queen puzzled over both gestures. She had not been expecting immediate willing contact from the girl, nor her automatic reaction to it. Not after the malevolent energy riding her last night and especially not now in the rude dawn of after sex. Another night had passed of sharing her bed and conflicted, she was thoroughly irate at her willing allowance, yet she couldn’t bring herself to correct it. Not fully anyway.

 

Chilling. “Then you are more of a fool than I thought.” Insinuating as fingers brushed a scalp.

 

Shifting in challenge. “No. I’m not.” Green darted sideways carefully. “Like you, I know exactly what I am and am not, your Majesty. I have not survived you this long a fool.”

 

Scoffing as fingers tugged hair earning a wince from green. “Brave words from a throat I could have easily crushed last night.”

 

“You wouldn’t Majesty.” Throat bobbing. “I know that now.”

 

Queen drew blonde head back, exposing neck cords to teeth as parted red leaned in. “How are you so certain?”

 

Sweat popping on hairline, Emma swallowed as her scalp began to tingle with magic. Mind was forced open, spilling. _‘My name._ You _said my name, just like_ her _.’_

 

“So I did. What of it?”

 

Stupid and brave, or brave and stupid. “It means something. Even if you won’t or can’t admit it Majesty.”

 

“I owe you nothing, certainly no explanations.” Letting go entirely, she pushed back from the desk and stood, pacing the length as the girl recovered from being shoved. Fire filled the room, sparks glittered in wake of her quick feet. “I am the Queen, the absolute sovereign and power in this realm. I yield to **no one** , least of all, you.”

 

Hands went palm up on knees and green found the ground with chin to chest. She’d pushed too far and fast. “I mean no disrespect—“

 

“Yet to leaves your lips so readily. I will **not** be judged.” Coming to a halt at pale knees, she forced a chin up, searching lowered lids. “Did our encounter teach you nothing last night about who is coming to own you?”

 

“It taught me a lot, your Majesty.” Courageous green found royal eyes. It had to be said and now that she confirmed part of why she jumped through that portal to begin this journey, she wasn’t going to let this version of Regina hide from the truth. Something was hiding there that needed digging out, air to breath and heal. “Most of all that someone really hurt you at some point. All of you and I’m so sorry that happened.”

 

“I did not ask for your pity.” Fingers tightened, pinching cheeks. “Do not assume to know me.”

 

Bracing. “But I already do… Regina.” Skin stung as Emma’s head snapped left from a rebuke and something else snapped in her. She pushed up, finding her full height in dizzy upset. “Stop running from me. We promised each other we’d stop doing that and damn it, I’m going to hold you to that too!” Breathing hard as Rope yanked her forward by wrists to the chaise. Digging heels in reflex, she lost her breath as gut slammed into the arm rest. Up ended, ass in the air, limbs were stretched taunt as her brain screamed at her mouth to shut up to no avail. “What did he do to you?” Wet heat pricked her eyes. Breathing labored as she awaited the strike of what she knew not.

 

Room, now freezing as all heat ran from spiraling rage, deep fright.

 

Slow pull against her bonds, Emma tried to see where the Queen was. Several minutes passed with nothing. Too much of nothing, Savior began to shake with it. Finally clicking, the cabinet door and heels her way. Closing eyes when she felt the cane tapping against her crease. Rattan beast paused. Unexpected. And so were the next words.

 

“The King had always said you could not rape your wife.” Tapping cane again earned a wince from the girl in more ways than one. “Property was property.”

Turning a cheek to rest on cushion as silk skirts rimmed her peripheral vision. “And what am I then, to you, Majesty?

Red curved, almost fondly, save for the following bite of a cane meeting pale flesh. Welt swelled and girl inhaled sharply, then wilting under redirection. Another strike drew tears and the remaining four filled the room with cries as blonde melted into the chaise. Circling and coming to perch near a wet face, Regina cupped a chin, catching wide open green meadows, dewy. A chilly kiss to trembling pink lips brought the sweet shudder she adored seeing.

“You are my greatest challenge.” Brushing tears away with a thumb. “And also my greatest treasure, but make no mistake my girl who rules here. I will have no master and certainly no Savior claim me. I belong—”

“To no one.” Pushing in spite of her pain. “See? I know you and I accept that. I didn’t like it when you, when she, told me that before, but I accepted it because I know Regina. What makes you tick, happy, pissed off and drives you to do what you do. Even now. I accept you because I l—“ Spell gagged before she could finish, Queen tsked and moved once again behind.

“You know nothing of consequence yet.” Another six made blonde cries fresh against an ear. “Least of all the inner walls of _my_ heart.” But the girl was scrapping close, too close. Vanishing cane away after only a dozen, punishment light in spite of the infraction, she was more than done with the moment. Leaving to the chamber door as paws scratched for entrance from the outside. She flung open the door, catching yellow eyes and yielding blue. “Watch, but do not touch my girl.” Possession rising.

Red caught Mia by the scruff as pup tried to dart around Queen towards the soft pleas not to leave filling the room. Backing away and bowing head as her Mistress left. Red dropped the pup with a mental cue to find the furs by the fire and reminding of the Queen’s directions when little paws forgot themselves. Nose nudged a door closed as Heels echoed away.

Left with a silent room and her aching ass Emma groaned at her stupidity. If she had only stayed kneeling, if she hadn’t of let her tongue roll they would have gotten somewhere significant. Even so, they had gotten somewhere and new knowledge lay heavy on her mind. Leopold had hurt Regina. She had long suspected, but did not know for sure. The times she had tried asking, no pushed too much, with the Mayor had not ended well. Usually with her sleeping on the couch, none wiser except for a sore backside to go with it. Still she pushed and here ended with the same result.

Well, almost.

Far from the worst she yet received, the caning had been firm, but not unexpected for her back chat. The Queen’s words however had been. Property, greatest challenge, and treasure… That had to mean this Regina cared, more than a little. Sighing as tears dried, Emma’s mind caught up to her heart. Mayor had never been stingy with after care from play or in rebuke of misbehavior. This was the first time the Queen had left her alone after a punishment and she longed for that hand through her hair, reassurances murmured and kiss given. Tears began a new and streaked her cheeks, heart sore. She cried long and alone for herself, for home lost, and the one woman who could make it all better.

Sudden and as though in dream she felt a brush to her cheek a while later, just registering the dark energy at her side. One lone finger, nail sharp, traced a tear streak. Sniffing hard, Emma leaned in and sobs began again. Her head found a silk lap and finally, heavy hand claimed her head.

“I could hear you from the library. Calm yourself now, or you will be ill from crying sickness.” Queen chided through cool comfort. Having decided to end the girl’s reflection time early due to the distress in her wake. This one, though brass and brave, was a sensitive soul.

“I’m sorry for pushing Majesty.” Swallowing hard as that hand began smoothing curls from her brow.

“Disrespect and vile liberated displays of such will not earn you the attention you want from me. Surely you have learned that by now, hence my departure to allow you to think. Do not mistake my return for leniency.” Though it had been, she’d never admit it.

Emma nodded eagerly, careful least affection leave. “Majesty, I just want to understand you better.”

Genuinely puzzled. “What ever for?”

“Because that is the whole point. Why I am here your Majesty. She wouldn’t tell me anything about… him and I need to understand that part of her history. She was… is going to be m— a wife and I want to know all of her. Every joy, celebration, fear, and scar.” Hope spoke for what may still come. Clinging.

Regina stiffened, hand stilling, taking in the explanation. Wrist flick loosened Rope and allowed the girl to inch forward, upper body now resting on her lap. She could feel that strong heart beat through layers of fabric separating them and marveled at how it called her name. Blood sang with three syllables, making hers warm in response when words could not be.

“Foolish still. Putting your life at risk, your very existence jumping through time and space for… just to understand a part of _her_ past.” Scowling at the short haired figure in her mind’s eye who begged gentility for the girl under hand. “We are not our past girl. We are only our present and if choices allow a chance at a future.”

Wise words Emma chewed on. Swallowing. “I am beginning to realize that, your Majesty.”

“Yes, I suppose you are.” Looking down at the soft puddle in her lap. Eyes caught Red and Mia inching closer and with a nod, allowed the approach. Their remaining pack circled and lay at her feet, a wet nose resting against each boot. “You have lost far more than you realize, my girl.” Giving a clue to the eventual conversation they needed to have about the dark realm and lack of any other.

Green wrinkled. “Majesty?”

“Worry not over my words. You need only obey and trust in me, if you are able. All will be well in due time.”

“I do. Trust you, I mean.” Smirking up, but averting eyes. “You also scare the shit out of me sometimes your Majesty.” Snuggling in. “But I trust you not to _hurt_ hurt me.”

Red twitched upward. Not quite there yet, but closer to a smile and the slow bond forming the vital links needed to mend what would soon break.

:::::::::::::::

A/N - Hope you enjoyed!


	12. Bent

**:::::::::::::::**

**Bent**

**::::::::::::::**

Over the next few weeks as storms swirled around outside the castle, snow fell heavy and deep, white wool blanket outside appeared gray, like the dawn, dusk and everything in between. They had been inside too long for Emma’s liking, walks and carriage rides had halted altogether. Court held, but had limited attendees, villages tucked in for a winter’s nap. Queen seemed more pensive and quieter than usual. Emma, though content to be close by the royal, yearned for some action in the sleepy routine that had taken over their days.

The Queen had changed with the weather. Slept, almost hibernating in short still spells throughout the day. A veil would fall over ebony eyes, muscles stiffened and were unresponsive. The first occurrence had startled Emma and the more the state occurred Emma realized Regina couldn’t hear or see her during these times, though dark eyes would be open appearing to watch. Blonde never knew when Queen would wake from these states and learned the hard way when she had stood abruptly the second time it happened to wave a hand in front of a still face. Wrist had been grabbed and she, forced to knees in rebuke. Emma had been more careful after that, and learned that slow precise movements on her part wouldn’t disturb the wake sleep state as much as an abrupt one did.

When asked, Regina had explained since the curse her body adapted with the seasons, much like the wildlife in the kingdom. In the dark realm she was part human and _other_. Queen had no term for exactly what her existence had become. At times reptilian, others wolf like or even her favorite bird; a raven. Traces of each hinted and visible in a gesture or flick of eyes. Instinct ruled primarily over emotion.

 They talked in the evenings. A lot, or Emma did as regal ears listened like the stone walls surrounding them; cold yet porous sucking for warmth. Warmth too in a bed now shared for sleep, but always with blonde at the foot. Since her punishment on the chaise weeks ago Emma had been carefully cautious, but unrelenting in her questions about the former King. Some were ignored, others earned her redirection and some surprisingly were answered. Keeping on, blonde didn’t give up easily.

It was on such a frigid afternoon, in more than the weather outside, that Emma noticed something new about her guardian. Kneeling at the feet of the monarch, blonde tresses were being groomed when she felt the Queen go still behind her. Trapped with her hair in stiff hands, she realized a shift had occurred. Sighing, she slowly turned. She relished the eye contact, stolen in little bursts of time least Regina wake and catch her. Black orbs appeared like watered down whisky during these times, almost at rest and peaceful, save for the literal frost around the rim of irises.

Sweet chocolate missed in the darkness hiding, Emma had memorized Regina’s gaze long ago. Knew every subtle dip of lashes and corner wrinkle. A book of information on what the woman was feeling. Queen had similar patterns, though more defined, less fluid in changing between mind-sets. Those eyes saw too much. And much unsaid by a pink mouth. Nothing that flashed behind green eyes stayed hidden for long and for Emma, when words became frazzled, welcomed the knock on her mental door of thoughts from the royal.

Emma dropped green to the chaise where royal bare feet were curled up. She studied the curves there, skin appearing like tight sheet of ice over muscle, smooth and glossy. Then she saw them. Faint and only visible from an angle in the faint cast of sunlight and flames in hearth. Lines, some crossed in tiny braided patterns on the soles of both feet.

Scars.

Scars she had never seen before.

Scars that flashed red in midnight eyes now awake and caught, Emma dropped her chin sharply as those feet jerked under the fur Queen was using as a lap blanket. Expecting a slap, but none came. Mild progress between them and she knew the effort of restraint it took for that hand not to fly. Instead, fingers came back to life and continued braiding her hair. Same hand also gave a firm tug once end was tied off. She turned at the signal, keeping green on her knees.

“Girl, you observe me, yet again. Am I that captivating?” Annoyed, however anger simmering far off.

Truthful. “Always, your Majesty.”

And heat left for muted curiosity. “You confound me at times.”

“As do you me, Majesty.” Small bow of pink lips strung up.

Single brow arched and red scoffed softly at the unsaid. “What of the question spinning in your head?”

Tone thick and sure, but not in possible receipt. “I’m wondering if you will tell me how you came by them Majesty… the scars on the bottom of your feet.”

Settling back on the chaise, Queen regarded girl with more patience than she thought possible of herself. That skill had since grown in the last few weeks. Deciding to break from her usual response pattern in favor of testing this new skill’s longevity she began to answer. “I ran one time too many and never again.”

Green closed processing the possibilities. “Why, Majesty, never again?”

Chin lifted as eyes narrowed in memory. “Rage, one long day past, became a very dear friend…”

 

**:::::::::Flashback - Enchanted Forest – Pre/curse, Many years ago, King Leopold’s Castle:::::::::**

 

Hell Hounds.

Named for the place Regina fled and that chased her panicked heart beating against lungs, now heaving. Sweat slick down her back dripped also from brow, stinging her eyes. Squinting against the burn of sun, young Queen held her breath. Time to inhale not her friend while being pursued by the King’s personal guard. Hoofs she rode slid down a wet bank, nearly lost in the mud. Slipping, down, down, down into despair.

Again.

Howling turned blood cells to ice in veins. Snapping reins as her neck did, whipping back, to see paws crest the hill ridge. Hounds closing in on her horse, Regina dug in heels hard enough she feared to crack ribs of the stolen steed from royal stables; black as the tunnel vision consuming her. Picking up lost speed, ears rung with grunts and shouts of the men giving chase. Filth and debauchery spewed from their mouths calling her to halt. Gold coins rang lusty in their tones, reward for bringing her to heel at the King’s feet once chase was finished.

No.

Hunting.

For her.

The Queen.

No.

His property.

_“Disobedient bitch!”_

     Shaking, as hunters closed in she kicked harder. Mount in the full day of a hard ride’s fatigue set in and began to foam at the mouth. Third escape attempt, Regina was not going back without a fight. Not before she gave everything left she had knowing she’d never get another chance least caught until the King was dead. Month trapped in his closet and still bleeding from rape claiming her womb she’d planned carefully for weeks, this sweet escape, as she recovered. Determined to be free after breaking under him in mind and body, with her spirit shattered she had nothing left to lose, or so she thought as mud flew in her wake.

White shields and banners crept in along her peripheral vision, guards gaining to surround. Hunted by them at his command deemed her further unworthy of the deed by his hand. Minions sent to fetch her from tantrum thrown, according to him. Not meriting his effort or sweat. She wondered what he got out of it. Setting dogs and guards to run with but a word. The power there commanded attention and she struggled to reconcile with what that would feel like.

Absolute sovereignty.

Never wanting that power near a year ago, now craved the freedom it might bring her. Longing to turn the tables on him with it. Stripping King of title, lands, and control; flooded her mind taking over. How she’d make his knees bleed on stone and cut the cruel grin from his bearded face. No. His death would be kinder to her in the end. Painful yet quick, she’d force his bitter blood to leave this life. Then she would be free to reign, but for the White Princess, growing to be a beautiful mirror of father. Snow White, insipid darling of the kingdom, was not so innocent. He was schooling that seemingly sweet, but selfish mask well to rule in his stead. White would replace White in time, if allowed…

Regina shivered.

Keeping brown eyes on the horizon, even so, she hunkered down tight against a curved back and bested guards by a few more feet. Losing chasers in side eye, hope whispered she might have a chance. A narrow break in the tree line loomed in light. Fit right just for one slim rider and horse fleeing. If she made it, guards would be forced to reform, giving her precious moments to slip ahead, beyond the boarder of the White Lands, but guards would not cross she was sure, into Mida’s Kingdom. War threatened from there. She’d be taken in ransom, but treated far better than what she currently knew as a royal captive. Granted too, precious time to think of her next move.

If.

Only if.

If slapped back, rude and heartbreaking.

One damning hoof cracked under a sharp rock unseen, horse knees slammed into the earth as she was yanked by the scruff of her cloak, belly first onto another horse. Screaming in outrage, she clung to the anger lifeline and leather saddle strap to keep balance as the King’s guard laughed at the struggle. Feet kicked as the horse slowed to a stop and she was pulled upright. Rough hands tied and gagged, a white hood was placed over her head, hiding tears blooming from brown eyes now muted to the world passing. Regina wanted, but refused to let water leak. Red rage stifled need to weep as hounds nipped at the ankles of her boots, now straddling the guard’s horse. Wrists tied to saddle horn, she turned mind inward to try and think of a way out. Hope leaving more with each passing moment; bleak flicker from the fire pushing her to run that morning.

Caught.

Like Cora had caught her the first time running.

No worse. Mother was a familiar creature. Punishments predictable and never scarring. He had been the first to taint the composition of perfect caramel skin. The scar above her lip healed now, a forever reminder never to talk back. King’s twisted logic, never the same day to day. That had been the most terrifying in the beginning. Regina never knew what to expect and she didn’t now as she was carried back to judgment’s door, save for some form of unrelenting pain and suffering under his hand or worse; his word.

She felt the castle hours later, long before she could hear the life around it, sucking what life was left from her. Going cold, heart began to numb as she recognized the sound of bridge planks underfoot to the prisoner’s gate. No warm welcome awaited her. Shadowed by hood, and peasant clothing stolen from a maid she appeared no more than the dust beneath the King’s feet. No one wiser, to the fate that awaited her and beginning to wonder what sick punishment would follow for her crime.

Taken and drug, clawing into the darkness, Regina was led by one guard at each shoulder to the dungeons. Hood removed, left her stumbling and blinking in the harsh torchlight as she was forced forward toward a wood table. Bare and damning in the middle of the room, and vulnerable from all sides.

“No!” Shouting and digging heels into dirt did nothing but earn an echo of mock for efforts. Deep and long from the shadows toward the back of the room, she froze a moment too long for hands to push her face first onto the splintered surface. “NO! I am your Queen! You cannot—”

“But I command them, as _your_ King.” He stepped from her nightmares and into the reality of present. No more King than old man in flesh, but power spoke and listened at the order given. “Welcome home Regina.”

She spat at him, eyes fire blown glass.

“Strip her.”

Chains held rage in place and skin broke against the binds that held her body to this world as boots and wool were removed. Skin naked and flexing she trembled in the silence to follow and more still as braided leather was trailed along her cheek and down her back by a guard’s hand. Trying to bite the fingers on the journey down earned a choking hold to near blacking out, that too good for King’s liking, yet not good enough was she for his hands to be soiled in this punishment.  He thrived on her repentant reactions and often she gave him the wanted submission and tears to end pain faster.

Slapped alert by ice water thrown over, Regina gasped as the first strike of wire wrapped leather struck the tender sole of a right foot. Teeth bit a lip refusing sound as scarlet owned her eyes. White pain burst as capillaries did on skin in mind, knocking her blissfully unconscious after the tenth blow. More liquid was thrown on her soaking and chilling to the bone. Awake, strokes began again on a new foot. Back and forth after that set complete, skin was stripped raw. Ire kept scream riding against the barriers of her thoughts, though breaking, but holding as whipping went on and on. All on feet that ran for hope. A flash of something. Then, there was nothing, but breathing.

His.

The guards.

Hers, soundless.

Sparks flew again from delicate finger tips or it appeared, washing the darkness with light. King jerked back as guard bearing whip dropped to knees. Choking on blood pooling in his throat and gagging in sputter the tin encased man convulsed on the ground as others fled to the rim of the chamber. New friend in rage reveled in the birth of a different kind of power unexplained within brown orbs. A mere flash between the blink of an eye, no one sure what actually happened save for Queen.

Brief and small, first taste of victory made her drunk. Fuel enough to begin planning her revenge, with the help of magic finally awakened. Suspecting it rested there since birth as Mother said, but never able to bring it to surface. Until now, when she needed it most and before she lost herself completely.

 Heady at the prospect of a future blooming, red lips bent in triumph. And in the merest flash of fear in King’s eyes Regina began to laugh.

 

**::::::::::: Present Day – Dark Realm ::::::::::**

Coming to again from the drawn shade between wake and sleep, Regina resettled eyes on the blonde kneeling close. Too close, but now a complacent comfort, she realized as the past left her. Brief in her description, the foundation of the event explained to the girl seemed to rile emotions under blonde roots. Air tasted of tang; sorrow and anger shaken together in a lukewarm cocktail.

“Bastard.” Pale fists clenched as curls shook. “He’s fucking—”

“Dead.” Tone crisp and stale as _it_ now was, Regina finished. “Many years now gone. Scars and _it_ matter not.” She had buried them ages ago and tears not shed since.

Emma dared reflective emeralds to gleam against black pools, now understanding words said many weeks ago when she had been caught in the woods. Running pray in a hunt she was never meant to escape. She hadn’t believed it then, but now truth roared. “You knew what I must have felt that day Majesty and still… you _knew_.”

“I did.” Clear and unabashed, Queen nodded once at the hard lesson absorbed the day of the swan hunt. Different for each of them, but of the same mold. Girl had learned words said from royal lips were truth and meant with fidelity. She had learned she was capable of feeling the beginnings of more than anger or indifference.

“I was terrified until you…” Conflicted and doubting her mind frame at the time, Emma faltered.

Lack of her title in trailing words, she let go of a ready reprimand in favor of clearing the air on the matter blonde had yet to come to terms with in understanding. “Until _I_ came for you. _My_ hands claimed and lifted you up from the dirt. I corrected when you fought what you needed and I always will. You belong to me and began to the moment you obeyed my call to come out from hiding in the woods.”

Stubborn still in truth, arms crossed. “Like I had a choice, your Majesty.”

“You had then and still have the power of choice.” Palms stilled as lips gave a brief kiss to crown of blonde head. Whispers made goose flesh rise on pale neck. “Obey or not. Trust or not. Stay or go. Always a choice my girl.”

Green glared, but was softening under hands that now stroked her skin. Bent as she was by choices given, she would not choose to leave or run even if the opportunity arose now. Relaxing more as she realized she had chosen to stay long ago and in doing so of her own free will, had chosen to belong to the Queen.

Regina assessed. “That idea upsets you, but also calms the rapids running under your skin. Need wins every time, even when you do not want it to.”

Emma leaned back, resting against royal knees. “We are alike in that way Majesty. That’s how you survived. You needed that rage and the power it promised, but I know you didn’t want it.”

Ridged, but brief at the shared bluntness of commonality, Queen’s arms encircled a neck anchoring blonde close. She had not desired the rage once it began consuming every waking hour, but needed it with every fiber left willing to live from moment to moment trapped under the King. Rage was all she had and it began to glue the fragments of her broken heart back together with sharp, misaligned edges. Edges wrinkling and loosening now more each day in the green that dared challenge her current silence.

Hesitant, but ready to test words said earlier and a title long missed when dark permission was granted to speak, Emma braved a request and a peek over a shoulder. “If I belong to you and you to no one, may I be no one and… you my Queen, your Majesty?” Red lips a firm line did not hesitate to remain quiet in answer. Though, neither agreeing nor refusing, for once neutral. That, for Emma, bent doubt in half; a rainbow in her eyes began to span grey world of shadows.

A test. “Thank you… my Queen.”

For the first time, red mirrored a smile of promise in return.

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**A/N – Hope you liked it! Next chapter called _Broken_ …**


	13. Broken

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**Broken**

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             Wrapped in furs as the royal carriage moved along the Queen’s rode, destination unknown, Emma scratched Mia behind the ears, earning little wolf version of a purr with a yip of approval. Unlike their last coach ride, drapes were open allowing Emma a full view of the passing landscape. Everything was covered in a grey sheet of quiet ice. Dark and cold like the eyes that stared into nothing sitting across from her.

Queen ridged and silent since waking. There had been fewer opened eyed naps today, Regina tense and hyper alert in diligence of thinking. One word answers, though warmer than in the past, had been the routine of the last few days and caused Savior unease. Emma’s hand stilled in pondering the why of the day as Mia whined for more scratches, rolling on a back to give easy access to a soft belly.

Giving pup affection, blonde sought her own. “My Queen?” New title used along with Majesty still new, but tolerated and she hoped almost accepted.

Black eyes moved to lowered green. “Out with the inquiry, girl. Your thoughts weigh the air between us heavy.”

Knowing the royal was sensitive to her emotions and internal dialogue. “Sorry. I was just wondering where we are going, Majesty? You seem… off today.”

“I am as I am and as I have always been on this day, though it is not your concern.” Shifting a gloved hand to rest on Red’s great head. Yellow eyes cracked in acknowledgement and closed again to the master of sleep.

Careful in phrasing at the most words said in the span of a few days. “I think maybe, if it is your pleasure, I might be able to alleviate some tension, my Queen.”

“It is not my pleasure at the moment… but…” Words crippled on her tongue, ill use to their utterance, but trying for connection in the wake of what was to come. “Thank—you.”

Blonde curls jerked upright. “Did you just…” Slow grin grew as a sharp eye waited for title. “You did Majesty.” Sitting back and watching a red mouth part without sound and close. “Well, you’re welcome. If you change your mind, just let me know.”

Regina scoffed and looked out the window as if in disinterest, but inside she was thawing to the girl’s eagerness to please. Slow but sure she was growing to care for the queer blonde and perhaps allow herself to be cared for in return. Hard door to knock down, the past, still locked in old habits made deep connection difficult, but not as impossible as she one thought. As the tree line became familiar Regina further frowned as their destination neared.

Meadow opened sparse save form one lone mark at the top of a hill. When she had woven the curse two years ago before the Dark One stole it to alter, she had made she to give _him_ a special resting place, overlooking pastures past the horizon filled with horse herds roaming free. Her land, by royal decree, no one was to hunt or bother the wildlife that grazed there. A haven of untouched life. One she had envied for herself as a child and a young maid newly in love.

Carriage rolled to a hard stop, Queen exited without the usual direction, door wide open as if in silent invitation to follow. So Emma did. Red whined, lifting a head as did Mia, but wolves stayed put. Bare feet in boots unused to crunching under snow, Emma slowly followed a magically cleared path for walking. Great tufts of snow banked right and left as Queen moved, like warm liquid, through the frozen meadow. Squinting against the sheet of near white to see, Emma finally saw what they were walking toward and stalled. She only knew it from a story, one viewed in a dream catcher in her world to catch a tear when Regina had bared her past heart ache over him; Daniel.

Red heart carved into a tomb block over looked the empty field. Beautiful in its deep isolation in nature. It hit her gut then what this day was, all sense of time gone from her since landing on her ass in the dark courtroom months ago. Heart full and breaking for what weight must be leading the way on royal shoulders, she followed with deference suiting the moment, surprised she was not rebuked for coming to kneel next to heeled boots resting a few feet from the stone.

After a long beat of dual thoughts thick in the mild breeze between them, Regina began speaking. Easy and fluid where it hadn’t been before fell unto pale listening ears. A tale of a girl in love and the moment it was stolen away…

 

**:::::::::Flashback - Enchanted Forest – Pre/curse, Many years ago, Mills Estate :::::::::**

Preserved like smoked meat in the cool dark cellar against decay, under glass he rested. Appearing to slumber softly in warmth, not the reality cold death called for. His mouth set as she remembered so fondly, parted in wait of another kiss that would never come. Daniel’s remains sat elevated in a glass coffin in the middle of her bed chamber.

One she had been forced to not leave since the _incident_. Murder too kind a word for what Regina felt and yet her heart struggled to give it a proper term. She had no words then as she didn’t now, but Mother had plenty she recalled when she had sat stunned on the bitter sweet hay cradling him in her arms after...

::::::::::

“You stupid girl.” Cora paced firing insults and questions, dust from sharp edge of a black cloak swirling as her anger rose. “Weak and foolish. I have taught you better. Sacrificed _everything_ for opportunity, for you, I never had and you _dare_ throw my hard suffering away. Ungrateful. Spoiled. What were you thinking Regina? Hmmmm?” Pacing drew to a halt and a sound slap followed on an already wet cheek. Then another, and another. Ringing the night to attention as Regina struggled to breathe.

 _In…_ Slap

 _Out…_ Slap

“Answer me!” Gloved palm struck too hard, sending the silent answer to hit the dirt.

Coughing, Regina brought her shaking hand to a bruised cheek, spitting blood from a tooth cut lip. Slow, dull eyes in haze turned back and up to take in the power over her. Lips parted and in the cutting gaze, she spoke with the last shred of rebellion she had left. “I did not think. I allowed myself to feel, really and truly feel for the first time in my life and I was happy, Mother. But you wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” Yanked to her feet as Daniel’s lifeless form fell away from her, she gasped at the claws clutching her neck.

“You dare talk back to me?” Cora narrowed black eyes, head tilting in a teasing smile of softness most cruel. “I have cut out tongues for less.” Tracing a trembling red lip with a sharp finger she crooned as a tear slipped down a tan cheek. “Aw, my pretty sweet, you are lucky I have plans for you.” Pinching cheeks in a vice grip. “This lovely mouth will bring title and fortune to our family.”

Shaking as white pin pricks clouded her vision, Regina cracked at the seams. The certainty that tone commanded also bent the frame of body her spirit was hiding within. “Mo-ther please…”

Cora’s damning eyes sparked and rolled as she shoved the child born from her body away. “Need a punishment then from Mother, really Regina, you are getting too old for these tantrums.” Black smoke flowed and engulfed them all.

As it cleared, the perimeter of her chamber came into focus and Regina waved her hand to better see. Longing began as glass coffin came into view and then panic as the translucent image over it, like watching ones reflection in rippling water, showed the last two minutes of his heart alive on repeat. Their sweet love’s kiss, the stand-off, hand ripping a heart out over and over again. Sweet temptation she could not tear her eyes away from the beginning and her emotions spiraled in ache and breaking with the devastating end.

Repeatedly it played through that first night.

And again through the next day.

On the third, frozen on the bed, stiff and dry from lack of nourishment and relief of pain, she broke; in half, in thirds and in quarters, completely apart Regina fell. She sobbed for him, for herself, and what would never come to be. Drained of nothing left to suffer she finally closed her raw eyes to an exhausted sleep.

::::::::

Dawn knocked, hours later, as Mother never did. Though task mistress was there on the edge of the room watching in the shadows. Regina winced awake, suddenly alert at the slow predatory approach she knew so well. Nearly crumbling again as a hand brushed against the dark purple swelling on her cheek.

“Why do you make me hurt you so?” Sitting on the edge of the bed, Cora was rigid with her affection. “Mother hates to see you cry, but sometimes you must learn the hard way, my sweet. Do you understand?”

Desperate for a kind word after the ache that consumed her, Regina pushed bile down as eyes closed to tears of twisted affection. Hating herself for breaking, hating the hand that feigned kindness with words only to crush blows with them. Soul raw, shattered glass in her broken heart, begged to be put back together under Mother’s poisoned glue. She was thoroughly disgusted with herself. Yet she curled in tight against a cool lap as cruel fingers pulled her hair back tight, scalp burning.

“Enough with this foolishness. There will be no more tears over him. I forbid it. Do you understand me Regina?”

She understood a lot of things, but not _her_. Punishment met she could not cry more if she wanted to. There was nothing left. Broken turned to damming dust under Cora’s heel. “Yes, Mother.”

 

**::::::::::: Present Day – Dark Realm ::::::::::**

Rage and heartache, the earth shook with it brief under her knees. Emma fell forward, catching herself before face met the ice. Righting upwards, she returned to kneeling, eye bright on a now still red mouth, finished speaking before the quake shudder. Then cool detachment returned and warming under patience as her Queen seemed to be working to form words again.

“He was everything to me back then. My hope, a beacon in the darkness that was my life.” Midnight met two dewy meadows. “I never thought I would see that kind of light again.”

Emma stilled, breath caught between beats in chest. “And now, my Queen?”

Resting a hand on a shoulder, Regina gave weight in pressure and words. Time to share as she had, the hard moment was here to ask. “Do you trust me?”

Full and wanting, Emma tilted head to rest her cheek against leather bringing her comfort. “I trust you my Queen. I think I have for a while now.”

“You know I speak truth, sometimes though as you do not want to hear or consider it the case?”

Brows pinched as the leading questions flowed. “I do…Majesty. Why are you—”

Stepping closer, Regina moved to stand in front of her girl, cupping cheeks with the utmost gentleness she was capable of. “It is time.”

Blood began pounding in temples. “Time for what, my Queen?”

Leaning to press comfort to a worried brow. “The rest of the truth I promised you months ago.”

Nostrils flared as membrane of hope began stretching thin across wide green eyes. “What truth?” Nerves twitched, pinching her heart.

“You know what truth, my girl. Long suspected it within the doubt of shadows pushing in.” Pale fists clutched her silk skirts, pulling hard to anchor swaying knees. Queen kept hold of shoulders, drawing back and commanding green up to hers with quiet wait.

Stalling as darkness crept in vision funneled only leading to the flicker of starlight in the night holding her gaze. Cracking. “Pl-ease, my Queen. Don’t…” Closing as the bitterness began soaking her in cold sweat.

“Give me your eyes.” Girl obeyed her instantly though pained. “You do not understand, and I do not expect you to right now, but you will in time my girl.”

Shaking, Emma’s breaths came in short white puffs against a black skirt.

Tender as she could ever be. “There is no returning from the world in which you came. Or to the… people you left there. They never really were more than a dream, a wish with faces by dreamers of many dreams in the void of space. Nothing more than a wish for home and what it could be the moment you were sent away from the curse in the tree. _This_ is the only present.”

Butt slammed into heels as hands slid through silk. Leaning heavy against her anchor as vertigo spun her mind. Magic bean thrown on castle stone and no portal, over and over looped on repeat from her first day arrival. “Not real? Nooone of _my life_ w-as real?” Earth under her too cold, fabric clutching too dark, too soft as present moment crashed in snapping her spine in two. Face would have met the ground save for the arms under her dead weight, holding tight. Panic, boulders crushed lungs. “Hen—ry?”

There was no Storybrooke, no white mansion on Mifflin street or Mayor to tease and banter with to welcome her home after a long day. No pancake weekend breakfasts at Granny’s after sweet morning sex, no bright brown eyes full of promises and reassurances and no… _Henry_. Her son, _their_ son… She sobbed. The first promise from red lips true. The twisted curse by a long gone Dark One also known as a dream named Gold and in his lingering sickness, they were trapped.

There had been some doubt in the blonde head now cradled against a breast, but having it and believing it were two different things. “Why?” Emma had to know as the candle she was flickered wild and harsh. Queen’s promise to mend what would break echoed in mind, heard as if she was underwater. Newer words now crystal sharp in their clarity.

“Because I never was and I had hope it was possible.” Lips pressed to sooth a weeping corner of eye. “Hope landed in my court in a heap of red leather. You are my test to bridge the darkness.” Regina lifted a trembling chin. “You have been my light since the moment you arrived and now I will be yours…”

Then there was pushing against a fragile inner barrier within her blonde head, she heard that velvet caress. _‘my Em-ma.’_

Warm amber Milky Way floated within midnight orbs wide to catch falling green. When those known eyes from a galaxy of dreams far away, met hers Emma believed. Two star dreams extinguished in her heart and she broke in the darkness suffocating the light…

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**A/N - Thoughts? Please review, thanks!**


	14. Mending

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Mending

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Collapsed.

Emma collapsed and lost what was left of her consciousness to this world for the space of time she longed to travel back through. Back and back in her mind she traveled from the moment her knees hit the dirt at the Queen’s feet in the field. Then back to the news of the portal, the bean, the proposal in another life not real. Back further to her first date with the Mayor, then more to their epic battle of wills when she’d first come to Storybrooke. Meeting her parents flashed alongside Granny’s diner and time with her Dad at the station. Her yellow bug now forever in park.

And backwards to when her apartment doorbell rang and Henry. Henry. Henry… echoed to baby, baby, baby and when she had first seen his chubby little cheeks. No more. Never was. Peeling away her layers were down to the core of the little girl and baby in a basket on the side of a road to nowhere everyone forgot about. Or so she had felt or didn’t know the truth. But truth was here. Now.

And it was a cruel mistress in her eyes.

Cruel truth like her superpower was against lies. Lies she wished were real for the familiar comfort they held. No comfort in her heart falling apart. Pieces lay in royal gloved hands. The hands that held her up over the cold ground under her knees. Cold like the numb lies she grasped for. Hot ice melted down her face and out of her mouth gaping. Silent scream against silk skirts she clutched. Down and down into the core of Emma and Emma was no more…

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Regina lifted the fallen Savior into her arms and with graceful strength cradled a broken heart next to her own. With one last look at Daniel’s grave and the challenge of mending before her Queen of the Darkness began her journey across the field of white snow blinding. Began back along the path from hence they both had just walked, now only one set of foot prints did and so heavy they were. The girl still did not understand. That she knew for certain, but she had not expected that to be the case when her words broke green eyes in half. Ones closed to the world now. Beautiful ones with lashes catching the falling snowflakes around them.

As Queen approached the carriage her driver and guards dismounted to assist and with one dip of her chin they deferred and bowed. “No one is to touch her, save myself and the wolves. Make it known that the Savior now belongs solely to the Queen.”

“Majesty.” In unison they echoed.

Regina settled in the carriage, her girl on her lap; still and white. As it began to roll towards Black Castle the fullness of her claim began to sink it. A warm soothing balm across the cool expanse of her soul. Here and now the woman in her arms belonged entirely to her; body, mind, and soul. Path to this moment trialed and long suffering, but needed to begin the one they were now on.

Regina was thawing as the world was around her. Out the window as the land rolled past she could feel the very bones of the harsh winter willingly begin to melt. The slow rivers ran deeper with ice and fire joining together in her veins and on the river too Regina could see from her perch. Snow banks went by, a mere hint appeared smaller under her eyes and the crows over head cawed their approval. The ones that so often huddled on her balcony outside her chamber in the ice seeking refuge now livelier.

She felt different. Not as heavy or cold. The more the Savior sunk into need of the natural role to be hers that was under pale skin the more Regina began to feel. Time was still on their side and she could sense the clutches of the dark curse weakening as her girl grew most malleable in her arms. But stronger too the open truth would yield the light back into being. Her girl would mend. She would make it so.

Red and Mia whined ever so softly from the bench across the way as these thoughts and more came to light. Yellow eyes and blue both full of a question needing an answer and Regina gave them her eyes unveiled for the first time. Two wet noses dipped in deference to the Alpha. Trusted in their Alpha to return their Omega home.

:::::::::::::::::::::

Stirred. Emma stirred and one swollen eye cracked open. Then promptly closed again. Home. She was home in the castle tucked away from the world on a bed of memories that fought for dominance of reality in her mind. Real and unreal blurred, but oil and water they were when she sat up and took in the Queen’s chamber. Truth cut open her heart with a knife and tears flowed again. And before they could fall two arms were around her pulling her back against someone real.

Emma wept and wailed. Denied and screamed. No, no, no she said and the firm yes of return was the salt on the wound. She lost track of time. Seconds and minutes tangled with hours and days, she was unsure of. Time had stolen her away. Through it all the arms she was wrapped in did not let go even once. Emma remembered that, but nothing else of those first few days after her concept of the world had exploded.

She sat now on her furs in front of the roaring hearth. Real. Rope sat tethered to a hook in the floor. Dead. No longer did it claim her ankle. Also real. Emma had nowhere to go, no one to run to. She was owned just like the Queen had said she would be. Red lips had promised many things and all had come to light. Emma shivered. Light and dark. She thought she had understood both, but both were mocking like the rawness of her eyes.

Movement caught hers and a golden plate, the Queen’s plate, of shredded pheasant and small red potatoes and carrots rested at her knees. She swallowed. Food had not been her friend lately and Regina had been oh so patient with her over the fact. Not asked, but food was always offered and Emma shook her head each time. She had been allowed to do that for two days. Two full days of sitting on furs and staring and crying and being held when she did. Allowed to stew in her depression and heartache Queen had been nothing but doting and patient.

The third morning of such here and her stomach shut down, it began to awaken when their ritual began. Want and need; a heavy cocktail burning her mouth. Two hands, both gentle eased her throat back and the crown of her head rested against skirts of the darkest midnight blue. Her eyes were closed and twin tears leaked when her mouth was taken. Claimed by red tasting of the wine full of understanding. Cocktail went down smooth, warming her gut.

“Eat.” Not permission, but simple expectation to be obeyed.

And Emma did. She could not fight if she wanted to anymore and she did not want to do a lot of things. But Regina expected her to and so she did. Eat. Everything on that golden plate. Her hunger for life began returning with the last licks of her meal. Sitting back, she also began breathing again. In and out. Deep and slow. Slow and deep like her eyes going to the Queen on the winged chair.

Regina watched her and waited. For something and then Emma understood. Scooting over a few inches toward the boot touching her leg, need spilled over and out through her eyes again as her cheek rested against the solidarity of royal knees. Her place certain and unwavering. Shelter from the storm in her soul. And that too now belonged to the woman whose feet she knelt at. Feet that had carried her away home. Her only home. The hard truth revealed now was filled with easy silence and physical comfort. Always touching, nearly never apart the last few days. Even if it was just a hand on a shoulder or a finger grazing a cheek, or like the foot resting against her kneeling knees. The Queen was close and ready in comfort.

And Emma needed to say it one last time to be sure. “My Queen… None of my life was real.” Fingers threaded through her hair, tugging gently.

“It was a wish or a dream your mind spun and the many other minds of this realm for what could have been. Formed within a pocket of time called a dream-scape; a land of surreal manifestations of desire. One of the mysteries of magic I learned from the Dark One. The Fay knew of them too and so your parents sought to save you through one of them.” No matter her quarrel with Snow White, Regina was thankful for one thing and one thing only. That her girl had escaped the darkness at its most damning. Until now, but now was a different matter entirely.

“But it never was Majesty?”

“No.”

Sniffing hard Emma’s hands went to her stomach and looked, really looked at herself. No stretch marks. No hint that a heart had grown under her own. Empty womb never full. Somehow it ached to be. Then she grasped for something small, something she had been sure of. “And if my life was not real and I was sent into… whatever, why did I come back in my clothes Majesty. My jacket.” Her red armor and shield.

Royal fingers snapped and a brown leather satchel appeared at Emma’s side. “Open it.”

Hopeful Emma obeyed, but what spilled from the bag was not red leather or denim of jeans she had arrived in through the portal. No. The cream crocheted wool of this world filled her hands. Covered in fibers from a woven basket and shreds of the cotton shift she had been found in as a baby. Thumbs traced the purple satin of her name. She looked up and into dark eyes. Was allowed to freely and she wanted to know why but said something else instead.

“I don’t understand your Majesty.” Or maybe it meant the same thing. This is not how she came into this world. Her foreign clothes had been taken from her and replaced with a cotton shift that first day at Black Castle. Queen had bid her to go find her parents and Emma had. In the cave. Then they were all captured.

“Nor did I at first.” Regina admitted. “When I put your clothes in that bag the first time they were like nothing I had seen before. I wanted to study them, learn more about you because the Savior that left our world was a baby two years ago. A baby in basket and blanket I was not expecting to return for many years yet if ever.” Running a palm over curls Regina continued. “Then you arrived at my feet and I was confounded as to who you possibly could be. I suspected, though I was not sure. I tested my theory when I allowed you to search for the parents you claimed were yours. And while I waited for that theory to prove true or not, I went to examine your clothing. They were no longer what they seemed. This came into being.” Gesturing to the shreds in a lap. “I knew then you were the Savior.”

“It doesn’t make sense my Queen, but it does at that same time.” Temples pulsed and she grounded herself by pressing her body against skirts.

“Magic is like that my girl. It is a spectrum of possibility, duality, and most essentially of emotion.”

“You have told me that before and I didn’t understand then. But you didn’t Majesty… And yet I know I have heard those words before from you.” Chewing her lip Emma sighed. She understood and she did not. Maybe, she was wondering, she never fully would.

“Mine is the only magic left in existence save what is left of your… What did you call It? Your super power to detect truth.” Petting again Regina lifted a chin. “Then of course your hope paradox which is not so much of one anymore.” Broken Savior, it leaked from eyes even as she spoke. “But have it again you will my girl. Time and patience I have a world of to share with you and you belong to me. I take care of what is mine.” Cupping two wet cheeks Regina gave her girl what was needed. Dominated two salty pink lips swollen from grief biting.

Emma shivered.

“And you.” Midnight held a green leash. “Savior, my girl, my… Emma. You Emma are mine.”

Emma she saw nothing but black with eyes now clear. Black eyes on hers with a promise between them. And the Savior realized one important thing. Perhaps the most important.

Darkness is not black.

Black was not a color or as simple as the battle of truth and ignorance she had been facing since arriving in the dark realm. Nor was it the difference between good and evil or submission and authority or life and death. Emma understood then what black was within the gaze of the woman above her.

Black absorbed all colors. All light. It has no master and follows nothing and waits for no one. Owned all in its infinite expansiveness. Was Alpha and Omega in the human kingdom and the animal. It was other. Beyond comprehension of the laws governing space and time. Darkness contrasted by reflection and diffusion. Precise black was and Emma understood. And Regina was no longer the Queen of Darkness then in her mind. Nor even the Black. Regina was her Queen.

Queen of the Light.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – Hope you enjoyed it and that the wait was worth it. Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think.
> 
> I have a lot of stories going right now and have to be in a very specific head space to write this. More to come. I do not abandon stories and appreciate your patience!


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